Like Father, Like Son
by Boo's House
Summary: House is surprised when he finds his 14 year old son standing at the door.
1. Chapter 1

Like Father, Like Son

Although House now lived with Wilson, he went to his own apartment once a week "just to check on things." House knew, and probably Wilson, too, that these visits had much more to do with House maintaining a sense of independence and autonomy than any need to keep track of his belongings. House hoped that someday he could live independently again, but with the purchase of the loft, House wondered if Wilson had resigned himself to the notion that House was always going to need support. House hadn't reached that conclusion, yet, and he wasn't giving into that notion any time soon either.

What House did at the apartment, on any given day, varied with his mood. Sometimes he would go to play his piano and his guitars. These precious possessions had given House the excuse he needed to continue paying the utilities. Variations in temperature could wreak havoc on the integrity of his instruments and they were worth thousands of dollars. On other visits he would read or just watch TV, enjoying the silence and the solitude that the space provided. Sometimes, as on this occasion, House would rummage through his belongings, alternately wandering through past memories and finding things to pitch. If House couldn't ever live alone, then someday keeping the place wouldn't be practical and the job would need to be done anyway. This way he could take his time and make decisions without pressure. Really the job had needed doing for years. Everyone collected unnecessary stuff and eventually needed to weed things out, House was no exception.

It was no surprise to House when he reached into a closet and pulled out a maroon folder with a label giving the name of a conference that he had attended in New Orleans. Memories washed over him that he hadn't thought of in years. He didn't remember the conference at all, even though he had been a featured speaker; what he remembered was the music. If New Orleans could be described in one word, to House, the word would be jazz....

Once his responsibilities had been fulfilled at the conference, House set out to visit every jazz club that he could before his flight back to New Jersey at the end of the week. It had been fabulous! Still, the thing that brought the smile to his face happened at the hotel where he had stayed. The last night, he returned early to his hotel because his flight left at the crack of dawn the next morning. In the bar, playing piano was a woman who wasn't afraid to take liberties with the music. She would change keys or improvise a piece, taking the melodies to places unexpected. She drew him in and caused him to forget his early flight, to forget everything, really, except that besides being a doctor, he was also a musician.

She stopped to take a break and because the bar was nearly empty, she allowed him to play when he asked if he could. House picked up where she left off because he had immediately grasped her style, and emulated it in order to remember it and take it home as his own. Impressed with his skills, she introduced herself and for the rest of the night, they had played a sort of "Dueling Pianos" taking turns and playing simultaneously, trying to outplay each other and learn each other's styles. By the time her last set was over, the bar had filled to capacity and was spilling over into the lobby. The manager of the hotel bar asked her to stay and play an extra set with House and they agreed, unwilling for the evening to end. Someone had taken a couple of Polaroid shots of them at the piano. She gave one to him and kept one.

Still giddy over the excitement of the evening, House asked her to his room for a drink and she had accepted. Her name was Renee Dubois, but initially he had called her Pheebs because she looked and acted like Phoebe on _Friends_. She commented that many people made that connection and it irritated her to no end. In the elevator, away from the crowd and the excitement, House took the time to assess her features. She was tall, almost 5"9". Her hair was blond with a hint of red, strawberry blond, some might call it. At first glance, House decided her eyes were blue, but the way they changed with the light and the mood caused House to reconsider his decision. They _could_ be blue, but they were also green and a warm golden brown, too, when she spoke of something that she was passionate about. He decided that hazel was the most accurate description. She walked with the grace of a dancer and House thought to himself that a dance might help break the ice.

They entered his hotel room and Renee immediately noticed that House had brought his own CD player and CDs. As she suspected, his tastes were eclectic, ranging from Dixieland Jazz to Blues to a few of the Classics. She was rather amazed, though when he chose a Nat King Cole CD. Without asking, he took her into his arms and began to dance with her. He could have asked her, but he was afraid that if he knew she was a dancer that he would be afraid to dance with her or become awkward. As he suspected she was a dancer. She showed him a few steps that "would make the girls swoon" and he responded that stepping on their feet would make them swoon, too!

She initiated the first kiss. House knew that Stacy was at home, but it was just a kiss. With each kiss he told himself that lie but after Renee started to unbutton his shirt and he felt her warm hands on his chest, he tried not to think of Stacy again. From there he followed her lead, perfectly willing to believe that if he didn't initiate anything it was her seduction and he was the innocent "victim." Deep down, he knew that he was the most willing victim that ever was, but telling himself that lie, kept his conscience at bay. He also told himself that what happened in the Big Easy could just stay in the Big Easy. It suited his mood perfectly knowing that tonight he was a "Big Easy" too.

After making love, as they lay in bed, their talk turned to music and the future they would never have. House loved medicine more that music and Renee loved her life in New Orleans. She had been raised there and her roots ran deep. And House loved Stacy. For one night Greg and Renee had a beautiful relationship and they both knew that it was over as soon as it began.

House didn't keep in touch with Renee but he hoped that she kept with her memories the same fondness for him that he kept for her and that night. Stacy never heard the full story of House's affair. He did tell her that he had met a piano player and they had made beautiful music together. If she had believed that there was anything more than music, Stacy had never let on. House kept the conference folder along with the picture of Renee and him at the piano. As he looked at the picture again, his finger traced her outline and a faint smile came to his lips. House checked his watch and noted the time. He had been reminiscing over Renee and their brief affair for more than two hours. It was time well spent. He felt lighter somehow. Whenever he remembered her, he was left feeling that way and he liked it. It helped him remember that not everything was about life or death, sometimes living in the moment could be enough. He smiled and replaced the folder in his closet.

A knocking on the door pulled House from his reveries. From the intensity of the knocking, House could tell that his visitor had been knocking for awhile and was becoming impatient. House slowed his gait. They could wait a few seconds longer for their impatience and for ruining House's moment.

House opened the door to a teenager with wild, curly hair and familiar blue eyes. House had seen this boy in the mirror everyday of his teenaged life. The boy was the first to speak.

"Congratulations, Dr. House, You're a father! Where do I put my things?"


	2. Chapter 2

House paced the floor like a caged animal. He walked a circuit from his living room, in and out of the kitchen, down the hall and back around the couch then, began again. He had made three laps before the boy spoke again.

"Um, can I watch the TV or something while you're digging trenches? It's interesting work, maybe, but really dull to watch."

House stopped and huffed, but began again without answering. Minutes before, House had let the boy in and allow the kid to deposit himself on the couch. House had sort of figured that in this world he had offspring. He hadn't always been careful. So even though this was a shock it wasn't too much of a surprise. He chuckled to himself that at a time like this he could split hairs regarding terminology. In the background he heard his son sigh loudly. The shock was that he had been looking at _her _picture just minutes before _her son_ had arrived. Was the god that he didn't believe in chuckling at the irony of it all at this very moment? He would be, if he wasn't too stunned to do anything right now but pace.

House forced himself to stop again; then again, he paced another circuit. This time when he arrived at the couch, he shoved the boy, his boy, over and sat down.

"I suppose you have a name?"

"Yes" the boy sounded vaguely annoyed.

"Spill"

"Gregory Alan House-Dubois"

"This is a joke right? She knew the Gregory and the House, never the Alan."

"My grandpa's name," he responded. "It isn't all about you, you know."

"You're right, it isn't. So, how is Renee?"

"Dead."

House's head took a spin. "How long ago?"

"Five years. She was helping other hurricane victims and caught some sort of illness. It wasn't the illness that killed her. It was the allergic reaction to the antibiotics."

"She should have called. I would have cured her."

"I'll pass that along."

House's mouth quirked into a slight smile; he was going to like this kid!

"So, why did it take you so long to look me up?"

"I had what I needed. My grandparents continued to raise me. My mom and I always lived with them. My grandpa died two years ago and my grandma died a month ago. I found your picture cleaning out the house and I figured that it was time for a change. Mom always said that adventures were for the taking. Once the house sold, I left. This can be just a visit. I have enough money to support myself and …."

"No need. You can stay. I'm interested in you. You seem…entertaining. I need to get home, though. Wilson is waiting."

"You're gay?"

"No, idiot, I had a psychotic break brought on by my Vicodin usage and it was recommended that I live with someone for awhile. Wilson took me in."

"Should I worry about you going 'psycho' on me and murdering me in my sleep?"

"Not until I start sharpening the steak knives."

"Good to know."

House turned at looked at his son in surprise. They even sounded alike. At least he wasn't going to need to spend money on a DNA test.

"Like I said, I need to go. Order a pizza or Chinese, or whatever. I keep the menus in the kitchen on the counter. There's be- Coke in the fridge. Clean bedding is in the closet. I haven't slept here since my break, so the bed is clean, really. It's just dusty. See you tomorrow…probably. I might get a case and then it could be awhile."

House left and, out of habit, locked the door behind him.

Fourteen year old Greg House-Dubois shook his head and smiled after his dad left the apartment. In all of his imagining, he had never considered a reaction like that! Crying and a few "Oh my son!" scenarios had past through his mind. Flat out denial was what he had expected. Instead, his dad had freaked and resigned himself in a matter of about twenty minutes. Cool.

After considering his options for a bit, Greg grabbed a beer from the fridge and popped the top. He took a big gulp then proceeded to spew it back into the sink!

"This tastes like weasel piss! My old man won't need to worry about his son becoming an alcoholic if it all tastes that bad!"

"Good to know. I forgot my helmet and had to come back." House held up the helmet to show Greg. "I keep the rest of the liquor in the kitchen cabinets, if you care to make any decisions regarding your alcoholism tonight. Oh, and if you find any pills, flush them. I won't be needing them any more." House nodded to the boy and left again.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Here's the disclaimer that I should have started with: I don't own House, David Shore does! **_

_**Chapter 3**_

As House rode back to Wilson's loft on his motorcycle, He pondered his new circumstances. He wasn't really opposed to having a kid, especially one that was out of the stage where things continually flowed from various orifices. In his mind, the hard part was over. Once a kid turned ten or so you could talk to him, reason, share ideas. It was really the best of both worlds he got a kid but with none of the really hard work. He decided that was a good thing. Although, he might very well have chosen a kid like Greg, if he'd had the need for one. House's mind wandered further. Choosing a kid wasn't like going to…say … the grocery and picking out a melon. If you want to know if a melon is ripe you give it a good thump. You could go to jail for thumping a kid! House knew he didn't have to worry though. Renee had been witty, musical and so probably very intelligent. House was… well modesty forbade him to go down that line of thinking, but suffice it to say, the kid was made with some seriously primo DNA! House then started remembering his own teenage years and some of the things he had tried. Well, this would be different, after all House was an ass, but not the same kind of ass that his dad was. He wouldn't try to run his family like a totalitarian regime. No, he would be fair and listen to Greg's ideas. They would _**discuss**_ things. House would never let himself say things like "Not in my house!" and "Because I said so!" Those were things that morons said when they had extended the limits of their higher level thinking skills! House was sure that he was better than that.

House arrived back at Wilson's and decided that he wanted to see Renee's obit as well as that of her parents. He clicked on the computer to discover that his son had already managed to figure out his non-password. He smiled and thought, "That's my boy!"

Greg House was terribly amused by his father. It was obvious that the man knew nothing about parenting. He thought about giving his dad a hard time from the beginning, but the conversation about being psycho, and steak knives and drugs left Greg feeling like maybe this wasn't the kind of guy who needed a lot of grief from his recently discovered kid. Not for the time being anyway. His very presence had nearly thrown House into another psychotic episode! If the man had taken another turn around his apartment, Greg would have considered calling 911.

Since the whole "getting to know you" conversation had been so one-sided, Greg decided that he would check things out and see what he could dig up. Looking around he figured the desk would be the logical place to start. Greg discovered that House had a very nice laptop. Switching it on, was as far as he got before he needed a password. Greg considered that House would go one of two ways with a password either really convoluted or nothing at all. Greg opted to try hitting the Enter button. The machine sprang to life. It didn't take long for Greg to go online and discover his dad's email account. The IM opened and a message popped up:

ghouse: That didn't take long

Me: I'm not half-assed, I'm fast!

ghouse: What are you looking for?

I pay my bills

I have no outstanding arrest warrants

People hate me, especially once they get to know me

Me: I'm bored

ghouse: Its late, go to bed

Me: 9:30 isn't late

ghouse: you need to enroll in school

Me: Always been homeschooled

ghouse: things change

Me: Teachers don't like kids that know more than they do

ghouse: You win.

Slacker!

ghouse: So what do you plan to do with your non-education?

Me: Be a doctor

ghouse: Doogie Howser!

Me: Who?

ghouse: .com/user/pmularz841#p/u/26/NBjch7P_gF8

Me: Shit! No way!

ghouse: way!

Doogie!

Me: Can I play your piano?

ghouse: IDK, can you?

Me: May I

ghouse: can you?

Me: under what circumstances was I conceived?

ghouse: got it

use the piano

not after midnite the guy upstairs gets pissy

gtg Wilson's home

Me: gonna tell him about me

ghouse: not yet

**If you follow the link, it should take you to the opening Credits for Doogie Howser on YouTube!**


	4. Chapter 4

Like Father, Like Son

Chapter 4

House arrived at his apartment the next morning bearing coffee and bagels. He found Greg on the couch having fallen asleep there watching TV. He had been watching the Discovery Channel. Apparently, the boy wasn't into porn just yet.

House took the food to the kitchen and then went to the computer to check the history. As far as House could tell, unless he had deleted the history, all Greg had done was check his email. House figured that he would see that Greg had played on World of Warcraft or Runescape. Most kids looked at MyFace or Spacebook, but it seemed that Greg didn't have an account in either place. Last, he checked YouTube. There wasn't anything there either. Well, Greg had been homeschooled; maybe he wasn't aware of them. He doubted that was true, though.

Quickly bored with the computer, House made his way to the piano. He played loudly in hopes of waking Greg. First he started with scales. Greg didn't stir. Next, he played Moonlight Sonata. He made great use of the dynamics but Greg slept on. It occurred to House that he had no idea what sort of music the kid liked, or food, or movies. Did Greg have a religion? House was in the dark about all of the above. The first order of business in his mind was Greg's education. He had teased him about being Doogie Howser and the kid had commented on being smarter than the teachers but all he had was Greg's word on that. Hopefully his family had kept records and his education wouldn't be a big deal.

Somewhere in the course of thinking, House had moved on to a boogie woogie melody that he was spontaneously improvising. As he was playing, Greg nudged him and sat alongside his dad. House slowed his playing a bit in order to see what the boy would do.

After a few false starts, Greg played the bass line, and then increased the speed back to House's original tempo. The errors had merely been attempts at determining the key. It took him less than thirty seconds to figure it out. Next his right hand joined the melody. Since House was improvising as he went, that Greg was able to join his father completely astounded the man. Once Greg was holding his own, House played a variation and then modulated down and changed keys. The boy didn't blink. A smile crossed House's lips, and then he found himself laughing out loud. This child, this prodigy, was his own flesh and blood! For the first time in his life, House knew what it felt like to be blessed! Greg looked over at his dad and smiled. He knew that he had been impressive and was pleased that House could appreciate his skills.

As they continued to play, House sobered. A line from a movie came to mind. "With great power comes great responsibility." In that moment, Gregory House, Sr. realized his responsibility to Gregory House, Jr. and to his future. If this child was as gifted intellectually as he was musically, then House had his work cut out for him. House wouldn't allow the roadblocks that had been set up for him to touch his son. He intended to be Greg's biggest cheerleader. Suddenly he was glad that he had squirreled away most of his salary over the years, because now that money could be used to support his son…._his _son…..

"Greg…..House….Dad!" House turned and looked at Greg. "Are you going to go all psycho on me? You stopped playing and then just sat there!"

"No, I'm fine. I just realized what you have."

"Uh, like some disease?"

"No, your gift."

"I didn't give you anything. What are you talking about?"

"Your piano playing."

What's so gifted about that? Mom played, Grandma and Grandpa played, and you play. What the big deal? Everybody does it!

House shook his head dumbfounded. "You really don't know what you have?"

"Can't everybody play like that?"

House smiled. "In your world, yes, maybe everybody played like that, but in the world in general, you are a prodigy."

"This is just a hobby. I want to be a doctor."

"Most people in music have other careers to fall back on in case music doesn't work out. In your case though, you can have music to fall back on if doctoring doesn't work out."

Greg smiled sheepishly.

House closed the piano and moved to the table. He warmed the coffee and bagels in the microwave. After a minute, Greg joined his dad at the table.

As they were eating, House decided to discuss what the boy needed in terms of school.

"I looked at the homeschooling laws in Louisiana and New Jersey. If anything, New Jersey is more relaxed so I think we just need to figure out where you stand and what you need."

Greg sat and looked at his dad smugly as he continued.

"I was thinking that at your age I was a freshman, so I assume that's about where you are, right" House sounded proud that he had figured it all out without needing his son's help.

"Uh, not really, I'm done." Greg replied blandly.

"So we start on your sophomore year! I can live with that!"

"Wrong again."

"Junior?"

Greg shook his head.

House grinned broadly and said, "My boy." If a man could actually burst with pride, Greg was about to have a mess. "Fourteen years old and a senior! Wow! It doesn't get any better!"

Greg rolled his eyes and House got the feeling that he was looking in a mirror again. "I'm sorry to hear you say that, because I don't want to disappoint you, but I'm not a senior either."

"Oh, God, You're a dropout! What was your family thinking? You need more than just music! You need an education! Damn!" House stood and commenced pacing as he had the night before.

"Stop! I graduated already! I'm done! I told you I was done!"

"You graduated…already?" House tried to shake off the shock. "So, what's the plan.?"

"The plan had been to start community college this past fall, but my grandma got sick before school started and I decided that I needed to wait a year for school. I wanted to help her and then I needed to get the house ready to sell and then I wanted to find you. I wasn't interested in going into foster care."

"Is anyone looking for you?"

"I don't know. Grandma's funeral arrangements were all preplanned, and family friends either stayed with me or I stayed with them and then when I was ready, I said good-bye and left."

"You left."

Greg nodded, "I left."

"Just like that."

"Yes, just like that."

"Do I even want to know how you got here?"

"I hitched." Greg said it with a straight face, but the twinkle in his eye said that he was going for shock value rather than the truth.

"Cool!"

"Really?"

"No, you as….turkey! You're lying!"

Greg grinned, "How did you know?"

"Parental intuition."

"You found out that you had a kid twelve hours ago and suddenly you are blessed with 'parental intuition'?"

"No, everybody lies."

"I'll keep that in mind. Since you asked what I need, I'll tell you straight out. I need a library card. TV really sucks!"

"A library card?"

"Yeah, it's this thing you take with you to the library when you want to check out books. And maybe a bus pass, if they have them around here."

House paled visibly. "I'll get you a bike or you can take a taxi"

"I didn't figure you for the phobic type."

"Long story. I'll take you wherever you need to go."

"I'd rather have a bike."

"Google bikes or look it up in the Yellow Pages. Take a taxi and call me when you find what you want. Here's my number and some cash to get you where you want to go." House flipped Greg his card, two one hundred dollar bills and a charge card. "We'll see if they'll take it," said House with a smirk. "The names will match if they check your ID, right?"

Greg was incredulous. Had his dad just handed him two hundred dollars and a charge card? He wasn't going to argue with him, but it seemed strange that a man that he had just met was handing over money and charge cards. "I haven't got a key." He was wondering how far he could push this.

House pulled his key off of a key ring and tossed it to him. "You're gonna be here more than I am anyway. I think I have an extra in my office, and I can always take Wilson's. He's such a girl he'll probably think I'm breaking up with him!"

"I thought you said that you two weren't together like that."

"We aren't. You just have to know Wilson to understand. I need to get to work. I don't want Wilson to come looking for me. There's a map in my desk. If you go out, take it with you. Get a cell phone, too and call me. Wilson will wonder who my mystery date is! This could be fun!" House grabbed his backpack and headed out.

Greg locked the door behind House and went back to the table to finish his coffee. He was pretty certain that House was indeed still crazy but he didn't think that House was dangerous. His dad seemed to be generous to a fault and Greg wasn't sure what to think of it. He wondered if House was this generous to everyone. According to their chat the night before, he didn't think so, but like House said, everybody lies.


	5. Chapter 5

Like Father, Like Son

Chapter 5

Essentially living on one's own might seem to be a fourteen year old's dream come true, but it wasn't Greg's. He wanted to spend more time with House and get to know him. House seemed to be so preoccupied with life in general, that Greg felt like he was an afterthought in his dad's mind. Not even an afterthought really, more like a gnat that was buzzing around, not even consequential enough to be an annoyance. He could be annoying enough to warrant getting attention, but he wasn't there yet. Greg figured that he'd best get his bike and library card before he went looking for trouble.

Greg decided on the bike shop nearest House's place to shop first. He hoped that he could find a bike that would do for now and then look for a better one later. He also decided that regardless of what he chose, House's approval would be obtained before any money changed hands, which meant a cell phone would be his first order of business. Greg flipped through the papers on House's desk until he found out which cell phone provider House used. If they could be on the same plan, it would save money. Greg figured that House had money to spend freely because he generally chose not to spend it freely. When Greg checked on the closest cell store, he was relieved to see that it was just a couple of doors down from the bike shop. Upon checking the route to the stores, Greg discovered that they were just a half mile away and so he decided to walk the distance. Before he left, Greg made sure that he had the money and the charge card in his wallet. He locked the door and was on his way.

The closer Greg got to his destination; the closer to the surface came the little boy that, up to this point, Greg had managed to keep buried. Greg didn't want to talk to any sales people about a phone and he didn't want to make any decisions that his dad would disapprove of. By the time he got to the store, Greg had made a decision. When he was approached by a salesman Greg handed him House's card.

"Would you please call my dad and tell him that you can't sell me a phone without him present? His name is Greg House."

The clerk's eyes grew round and he responded, "THE Greg House? I'd rather just sell a phone to you and forget talking to him."

Greg correctly determined that this must be the place that his dad had acquired his own phone. "I want him to help me pick something out but he doesn't think that I need the help. Just call, please?"

The clerk nodded solemnly and placed the call. "Dr. House, we have your son here and we can't sell him a phone without you present. No sir, he doesn't look like an idiot. No sir, I'm not a contortionist, I don't think that's possible." The clerk blushed a deep red and then sighed. "Sir, just be a parent and help your son with this decision. Think of it as bonding time….yes I can do that. Bye." The clerk turned once again to Greg and said, "He'll be here as soon as he can. I'm supposed to show you your options."

House arrived within seconds looking quite pleased with himself. "I didn't have a patient and this sounded like more fun than clinic duty. I think you might be worth keeping around, just to have you rescue me from clinic duty."

The clerk barely recognized House without his snarl. Greg relaxed a bit when he found that he wasn't in trouble for disturbing his dad.

"Were you following me?" asked Greg when he realized that his dad had been there all along.

"Not so much following as catching up. I felt like playing hooky. Need company?"

Greg smiled. "Yeah! I was just starting to look at some phones." Greg started toward the least expensive phones as House headed to the top of the line displays.

"Follow me kid," directed House, "Your old man has money to burn so take advantage of it while you can." House pulled out his phone to show Greg. "I'm pretty happy with this and it comes in some pretty cool colors."

Greg looked at House trying to figure out if this was some sort of test. House had a great phone that any kid would want, but Greg didn't want to take advantage of him. I really don't need a phone with all that stuff on it…"

"Nobody does. Get whatever you want. Just leave me enough money to put you through college." House gave Greg a kind of a shy smile. Apparently House planned to keep Greg for the long haul. Greg felt comforted by that. "Don't get the camo phone though; I have issues with anything military"

"Good to know," responded Greg with a smile, "I think this metallic red is kinda cool!"

"Yeah, I almost picked that one myself! Let's get you on my plan." House motioned to the sales clerk and he responded quickly. Greg noted that the clerk was terrified of House, not just a little scared!

The transaction was completed quickly and the clerk acquiesced to all of House's demands. House grinned, enjoying the power that he had over the clerk and watching Greg's reaction to the whole thing.

As they were walking out of the store, Greg just had to ask, "What did you do to that guy to frighten him so?"

"He was a clinic patient." Apparently that response was supposed to answer everything, but Greg didn't get the connection. Seeing the disconnect on his face, House continued. "I let him think that I held his life in the balance and he believed me. He told me where he works and then sold his soul. I get great service there!"

Greg didn't know whether to admire House or not. He was really unconventional in how he dealt with the world, of that, Greg was certain. He didn't just command respect, he demanded it. No, that wasn't it either. In his American Lit class he had read about the preacher Jonathan Edwards and his sermon _Sinners in the Hands of an Angry God_. He spoke of God holding the sinner over the pit of hell much like one holds a spider or some other loathsome insect over the fire. The clerk had acted like a spider would, moving away from the flames that were House. Greg thought that staying on his dad's good side was probably a very good idea.

"Is the bike shop next?" Houses words brought Greg sharply to attention.

"I…uh...." Greg nodded a guilty look on his face.

"Don't worry. I only treat fools like that…well, mostly." House gave Greg a wry smile. "I have improved over time, anyway."

"You improved at dangling spiders or being nicer?"

"Ah, Jonathan Edwards…I was rather impressed by his imagery as well. Yes, I do dangle idiots like spiders over a flame. I can't help myself. I tried right after I got out of the institution, but decided that I was entitled to some fun as long as I had to give up my drug habit."

They had arrived at the bike shop. Again, Greg went to the more modestly priced bikes as House headed toward the "top of the line" bikes. House looked over at Greg and gestured with his head that Greg should join him. "Just remember that college tuition."

The boy smiled and joined House. The doctor seemed to know bikes like he knew phones and literature and probably medicine. Greg decided that his dad used his intellect to compensate for the injury to his leg. If House couldn't keep up physically, he would more than make up for it in the intellectual arena. They both ended up with bikes; identical aside from the color. Greg's bike was silver with licks of blue flame twining around the frame. House's flames were red and reminded him of his flame cane. Cool! The bikes were pretty much all purpose. They would work for riding through Princeton and would work if they wanted to ride on rougher terrain. House decided that maybe biking would be a sport that he and the boy could do together until Greg was old enough to get a motorcycle.

There were two more places that they needed to go before they went back to House's apartment. The first was to get Greg a helmet. House had taken his motorcycle to work and if Greg was going to ride with him, a helmet was essential. For the time being, House insisted that Greg wear his helmet. Helmet shopping was a no brainer. House knew what he intended to get and there was no discussion aside from whether or not the helmet was the correct fit. House paid for the helmet and handed the bag off to Greg.

Next to the motorcycle shop was a music store that featured guitars. House couldn't shop at one store without stopping at the other. Greg's eyes grew wide as they entered the music store! Greg had never seen so many guitars. The music store that he had frequented with his family in New Orleans tended to stock band and orchestra instrument and pianos. They carried guitars, too, but not nearly the selection that this store had.

House saw Greg's face and grinned widely. This was going to be fun. Getting the kid interested in guitars was going to be a dream come true. Not that he had actually dreamed of having a kid to share his love of guitars but he did dream of having someone in his life that could appreciate his love of the instrument.

"Do you play?" asked House.

"Yeah, a bit"

House waved to the owner who waved back and said "Help yourself, House!"

House grinned and said, "Will do!"

House took a guitar off of the rack on the wall and played a lick. It wasn't very complicated. "Take your pick, son!" House motioned broadly to the wall of guitars and Greg didn't argue with his dad.

Surveying the guitars, Greg determined that they were grouped by brand and by price. The pricier guitars were kept up out of reach, but the lower priced and moderately priced instruments were easily accessible.

Greg found a guitar that appealed to him and plugged it in to the same amp that his dad had used. After checking the tuning, Greg played the same lick that his father had played; only he played it a little better. House's eyebrows raised in surprise. House played a more complicated lick and Greg matched him note for note. Again, Greg played better than House. The next lick that House played was far more complicated and he was sure that if Greg was honest about playing "a bit" that he would best his son this round. Not only did Greg prove that he had lied about playing "a bit", but he continued into a far more complicated part of the piece and left House staring in awe. By now they were drawing a crowd and House was drawn back to his memories of playing piano with Renee. He was totally oblivious to the fact that Greg had stopped playing and that the audience was clapping for Greg. When he saw that his dad was lost in thought, he began another piece so that his dad would have time to think. This time it was a slow jazzy piece that his mom had sung to him as a baby. When his mom taught him how to play piano, she taught him how to play the song. Greg had taught it to himself on guitar as soon as he received his first guitar. It was the recognition of the melody, his melody that brought House back to reality.

"I gave that melody to your mom the night that you were conceived."

"You wrote it for her?"

"As far as I know it was never written down. It came to mind as she sat beside me and I told her that it was for her since she inspired it."

"Cool!

"Yeah"

"She sang it to me as a lullaby for as long as she lived and I sang it for her at her funeral. It was the hardest thing I ever did."

"I'm sure it was." House reached out and squeezed the boy's elbow. "I'm proud of you, son"

There was a soft round of applause for the touching moment and House started playing something by Led Zepplin. Greg followed without missing a beat. They played back and forth until it was proven that Greg was the better guitarist and then they put the guitars away. House stopped short just as they were leaving the store.

"I don't recall you bringing a guitar with you when you showed up last night. Is it in storage?"

"No, I sold it so that I had enough money to get here."

House turned back, reentering the store. "Take your pick. Find your dream guitar."

Greg looked at House who nodded to him. "But you've gotten me so much already today, I can't."

"Consider it a reward for winning at 'Dueling Guitars'"

House called to his salesman friend to get the ladder. Greg realized that he really could get his dream guitar. Greg walked straight to his heart's desire and House commented "Sweet!"

When the transaction was made and it was determined that the store owner would deliver the guitar after the store closed that evening, House and Greg headed to a small, out of the way pizza place where the waitress was the daughter of the owner and they told House what to eat. House used a hot sauce on his pizza that Greg wouldn't even try. The pizza was the best that Greg had ever eaten and House promised to bring him back soon.

Soon they were back to House's apartment and before long; House was on his way back to work.

"Is there anything you need?" House asked.

"Milk and Coke and anything else that a person needs to survive. Your refrigerator is bare. Get eggs, bread and peanut butter." After a long pause, Greg asked one last question. Are you ever planning to move back here or will I always be on my own?"

House sighed. It was a fair question, but one that he didn't know the answer to. "I need to talk to Nolan, my shrink. My release from Mayfield was contingent on me living with Wilson. I don't think it will be a problem, but I need to check. If I move back we'll need to figure out living arrangements. The couch isn't good for my leg and I don't sleep well, as it is. I guess that we could get a fold out couch. I must say, I love that what I have, though."

"I slept on the couch last night and was comfortable enough. Why can't I just sleep there?"

"We'll think about it. It's after 3:00, I'd best get back to work before they start looking for me. If I don't have a patient, I'll be home by 7:00 and we can figure out dinner."

With those parting words, House was out the door and Greg was once again alone in the apartment. He really hoped that House would be able to return in time for dinner. Greg hated to eat alone.


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer: David Shore own's House. Some people have all the luck!**_

**I tried to format the lullaby but the website had other ideas. I hope that centering has helped make it easier to read**

_**Like Father, Like Son**_

_**Chapter 6**_

House entered his apartment at 6:55 hoping beyond hope that Greg would share his new toy with him. It wasn't just Greg that had dreamt of owning that guitar; House had too. The only thing that had stopped him from buying it was the fact that House would never play the instrument the way it deserved to be played. That was the guitar of a professional, not the guitar of a rank amateur who would never go beyond learning a lick that he found to be "totally awesome, man!" What he found when he walked through the door, though was Greg playing his acoustic guitar.

"The electric didn't arrive?"

"It's here. I just needed to touch base."

"Touch base?"

"Yeah, mom preferred it when I played the acoustic so when I'm thinking of her that's what I play. I've thought of her a lot lately."

"I didn't know her well, but is there anything that I can help you with?"

"Why didn't you two stay in touch?"

"We never even exchanged phone numbers. It wasn't meant to be. I never knew about you. If I had I would have made the effort. The truth is, I was in a committed relationship at the time your mom and I had our…thing. We talked about Stacy and your mom's hopes and dreams and my own and it was pretty clear that although we had a love of music and hot sex in common, there wasn't much else there. If it helps any, it meant more to me than just a one night stand. I kept the picture that someone took of us and when I'm feeling like I need to lift my spirits I pull it out. Your mom was incredibly talented and beautiful." House left the room just long enough to pull the folder with the picture in it from his closet. When he returned, He handed the folder to Greg.

"This picture isn't quite like the one my mom has…had." Greg went to his duffle and pulled out the picture that had been Renee's.

House took it and looked at it with a wistful smile. "She kept the best picture for herself!"

Greg chuckled at how much like a little boy his dad sounded as he said that. "Baby!"

"What of it? It is a better picture!"

"Of you maybe, but your picture is better of her."

House looked at the two pictures side by side. "Okay, maybe you're right."

"I usually am."

"You've got a really big head for a fourteen year old."

"I must take after you, then. I get the feeling that you're never wrong either."

"That's right. Just ask me." House grinned at his son. "So are you going to play that thing or just use it as an arm rest?"

"You get nothing until you feed me."

House walked to the counter where he kept the take-out menus and started flipping them in Greg's direction. "Take your pick!"

After feasting on Thai take-out House sat down at the piano and played awhile. Greg joined House on the bench for a bit and then went back to the acoustic and followed along with House. Finally, House found himself playing the melody that Renee had turned into Greg's lullaby.

"Well, let's hear it."

"What?"

"Your mom's lullaby."

"Alright"

Greg checked the tuning of the acoustic guitar and then played and sang another song before starting on the lullaby. Although Greg was tall and his speaking voice was deep, his singing voice was still that of a young boy. It was clear and a little reedy. It had been a long time, but the Greg's voice reminded House of Renee.

Sleep my love, slumber deep

From my heart to yours, let this melody seep.

This lullaby is so filled with love

A combination of your dad and your mom.

Dream of the things you'll accomplish some day

Think on the things that you'll do your own way

Your world is as big as you want it to be

Let your heart make its plans, let your spirit run free.

Right now you're a babe in your mommy's arms

I love your blue eyes and your sweet baby charms.

But someday you'll be like your wonderful dad,

With a musical soul and a talented hand.

Your dad opened his heart, let me glimpse within.

If I had it to do over, I would do it again.

You were no accident, although unplanned,

You're my gift from Greg, and I think you're grand!

Dream of the things you'll accomplish some day

Think on the things that you'll do your own way

Your world is as big as you want it to be

Let your heart make its plans, let your spirit run free.

But now baby sleep; let your mind have its rest.

You're Mommy's boy and she loves you the best.

Let your breaths become quiet peaceful and calm

Your sweet sleeping sounds become Mommy's balm.

I love you, my child, and it's my hearts desire,

That you always know this and need never inquire.

Dream of the things you'll accomplish some day

Think on the things that you'll do your own way

Your world is as big as you want it to be

Let your heart make its plans, let your spirit run free.

"I told you that I sang this at her funeral and I added extra verses. Do you want to here that part, too?" Although House's back was turned, Greg noted House's slight nod and so he continued…

Mommy, It shouldn't have happened this way.

You should have been at my wedding day.

Today I have to say good-bye.

I know I can't do it, I'll only try.

You'll stay with me always in my heart and head

There are so many things that I never said.

Grandma and Grandpa will keep me from harm

They'll help me remember your smiles and your charm.

I'll dream of the things I'll accomplish some day

I'll think on the things that I'll do my own way

My world is as big as I want it to be

My heart makes its plans, and my spirit runs free.

When I am a man, not a nine year old boy,

I'll go look for my dad and I'll tell of the joy

Of being your son, how you mattered to me,

And how like my dad you dreamed I would be.

You dreamt of the things I'd accomplish someday

You thought on the things that I'll do my own way

You made my world is as big as can be

Your heart made its plans, now your spirit runs free.

House wiped his eyes. He never cried, well, rarely, but his heart was breaking. It was breaking for a romance that he never pursued. It was breaking for a woman who should still be alive; it was breaking for his motherless son. No child should have to lose his mother like that. House thought his heart was breaking most of all though for never being able to tell Renee thank you for the wonderful gift that was Greg House-Dubois, their son. He supposed that he should be angry and regret the lost years watching Greg grow up, but the truth of the matter was, he didn't believe that Greg would be the young man that he was if House had been an influence in his life. By genetics alone, Greg had some of that edgy House wit and sarcasm. Had House been ever-present in Greg's life, the boy would probably be hopelessly jaded having lived with House during the infarction and the bitterness that House spewed thereafter. Yes, things were just as they should have been, minus Renee's death, that is.

"You hated it." Greg's soft words brought House back to reality.

"What?"

"You hated my mom's lullaby, that's why you didn't comment. Or was it just the part that I added when she died."

Greg had been positioned with his back to House so he had been unable to see House deeply emotional reaction to the music.

"None of the above; Greg, I'm speechless. That was beautiful. Your mom loved you very much and apparently she thought more highly of me than I deserve. I wish that I could thank her for loving you and for giving you to me and for being positive in the way she spoke of me. She could just have easily portrayed me as the bastard that left her and her baby to fend for themselves." House blew his nose one last time.

Greg nodded and then presented House with a smirk identical to his own. "The verses I wrote when mom died aren't exactly as I wrote them. Grandma made me change a line."

"What would that be?"

"You know the lines:

Grandma and Grandpa will keep me from harm

They'll help me remember your smiles and your charm?

What I really wrote was:

Grandma and Grandpa will keep me from harm

Up until they've bought the farm!

Grandpa laughed but Grandma seemed to think it was inappropriate."

House laughed out loud! "There's no accounting for taste, is there?"

"Nope, I guess there isn't!" Greg laughed with House as he got up and put the acoustic away and got out his new electric guitar. "Who's gonna go first?

House replied immediately "Me! I bought dinner. You owe me!"

Greg rolled his eyes. "It's good to know who the adult is around here!"

"I don't see Wilson around anywhere so I declare this an adult free zone!" House handed Greg one of his own electric guitars in trade for the new one.

As they were tuning up the phone rang and House looked at the caller ID. "Crap! It's Wilson!"


	7. Chapter 7

_**Like Father Like Son**_

_**Chapter 7**_

"Wanna meet Wilson?"

Greg nodded and smiled widely.

"Alright, but not a sound, okay? I want you to myself for awhile longer before Wilson sticks his oar in and spoils our fun!"

Greg grabbed a pillow to laugh into. He had the feeling that he would need it before this conversation was over. He was figuring out in a hurry that earlier in the day his dad wasn't just being accommodating, he was just being himself – a fourteen year old in a fifty year old body.

House answered the phone, putting it on speaker, just before it switched to voicemail.

"Hi Mom!"

"House, this is Wilson. Don't you check the caller ID?"

"I did. Hi, Mom!"

"Fine. Are you coming home for dinner?"

"I already ate; I had take-out from the Thai place."

"Don't forget to bring home the leftovers or they'll just mold in your refrigerator."

House rolled his eyes to Greg who had already started to giggle into the pillow.

"House, did I just hear someone else?"

"Yeah, one of my harem girls just can't seem to control herself in my presence."

"Fine, I know I can't talk to you when you're like this so I'll just hang up."

"Bye Wilson."

"House, what's her name?"

"Who's name?"

"Your girlfriend."

"I have a girlfriend? Thanks for the 'heads up'! I'll keep an eye out for her."

"House," Wilson voiced his exasperation.

"Wilson." House mimicked.

"You must have a girlfriend! Why else would you be spending so much time at your apartment?"

"I'm visiting my piano. It misses me."

"I knew it! There is a girl! What's her name?"

"No girl, Wilson! Now that we live together everyone thinks we're gay! You know that! I can't even get a woman to look at me! How are _**you **_doing?"

"The same as you."

"Maybe it's something we ought to consider."

"Consider all you like, House. You're not touching me."

"Seriously, what makes you think I'm seeing someone?"

"You got home late last night, you left early this morning, you ducked out of work in the middle of the day, and you didn't come home for dinner tonight." Wilson rattled off the list without taking a breath. "What else could it be?"

"Alright Wilson, you got me. I'll tell you. My long lost son showed up on my doorstep last night and I felt the need to spend some time with him."

Wilson laughed until he couldn't breathe. "Fine House, you win. Finish up whatever you're doing and I'll see you when you get home."

"Don't wait up!"

"Wow, she must really be good!"

"You have no idea! Bye, Wilson."

"Bye, House."

House hung up the phone and looked to see if Greg had suffocated himself.

"You can come out now he's gone."

"I thought it was you that was talking about coming out!"

"Yes, but I can't until Wilson is ready and that may take awhile." House answered, putting on a stereotypical gay affectation.

Greg was once again laughing at his dad's antics.

"Are you always like that with Wilson?" asked Greg.

"Some days more that others. I _**did**_ tell him the truth, but he couldn't even imagine that possibility. My conscience is clear. He can't accuse me of lying to him and hiding you when he finally does meet you."

"Why don't you want us to actually meet?"

"Wilson is going to tell me how I ought to parent you and I just want some time to be with you before the guilt sets in. You're my kid. I'll raise you as I see fit. I just want to do it without retribution for as long as I can."

A cloud passed over Greg's face and House noticed immediately.

"Something I said?"

Greg responded with an edge to his voice, "I haven't been 'raised' in a very long time. I may be just fourteen, but I've been trusted to make my own decisions since I was about ten. Forgive me for not appreciating your willingness to 'step up'! "

House stood and headed to the kitchen. "Do you need something to eat? My boss, Cuddy, always tries to stuff something in her baby's mouth whenever she gets cranky…the baby, not Cuddy."

House turned back to look at Greg when he received no response. It was clear that the boy was trying to get a handle on his anger by the way House could see his jaw working.

"I see levity apparently isn't the way to go here. If we need to talk, I guess we can. But words aren't my strength when it comes to relationships…as I may have just demonstrated." As House was speaking, had moved back to the living room and placed himself on the opposite end of the couch from Greg. "I know I'm not dad material, not traditional dad, anyway. I hated my own dad. He was abusive both emotionally and physically and I've always been afraid that if I became a parent I would fall into those same behaviors. I'm not a nice person, Greg, but we just met so you can't really know how true that is yet. At this stage, let's just take time to get to know each other. I would understand if this isn't what you were signing up for and bailed, though."

"I've been on my own awhile, now, even when my grandma was alive she trusted me to make my own decisions regarding my life. I just don't know what this is supposed to look like and when you made that comment about raising me, I just cringed." Greg sighed heavily. "I'm not mad, just tired, and a little confused. So far, you've gotten me half the stuff I've ever dreamed of having. Are to trying to make up for lost time, trying to buy me, or just incredibly generous."

"Do I have to decide right now?" House's response wasn't what Greg had expected and there was a twinkle in House's eyes.

Greg had trouble holding back a smirk. His dad was a piece of work. House saw the smile playing around Greg's face and knew the storm had blown over and they both had survived. Rather that heading into the center of the storm, they had managed to avoid most of it by keeping cool heads.

"This is how I would like things to go," began House. "We'll take things a step at a time and as we need to we'll clarify our relationship. As for me, I'm glad to have you here. You are an unexpected surprise but very welcome. I've never been responsible for anyone but myself so I'm pretty selfish and set in my ways. I've leaned pretty heavily on Wilson this past few months as I've continued my recovery and until I get the go ahead from my shrink, I need to stay with him. I have no intention of burdening you with my troubles and for now the best way to do that is to keep you under the Wilson radar for the time being. I'm afraid that once Wilson knows about you, he'll expect me to become his idea of what a parent should be instead of letting me figure it out. Honestly, I'm not sure that I can handle the pressure right now. I don't want to be the weak link in our relationship."

Greg was a little stunned by House's openness. He could tell that it cost his dad something to be that candid. He felt that he needed to say something in return. "Thanks for trusting me not to mess up your place and for letting me stay. You're cooler than I thought you would be. I appreciate the things you got me today, but I'm not here to get you to buy me stuff, I'm here to get to know you and avoid going into foster care. I'm a good kid. I'm not bragging, it's just the truth. I had opportunities to get into drugs and drinking, but the truth is I'm really focused on my music and my education right now. I still haven't gotten that library card. You distracted me by taking me to that music store!" Greg grinned at his dad.

As Greg had been speaking, House watched him closely, barely listening to his words. Instead, he was noticing that Greg and he had similar mannerisms and speech patterns. He didn't sound like he was from the south, either. How could this kid be so much like him? House found it strange, but at the same time gratifying. He looked at his watch and realized that he needed to leave. Greg noticed House's crestfallen face and was pleased that his dad didn't want to go.

"Will I see you tomorrow?" asked Greg.

"Yes. Do you want me to bring breakfast again?" There was a hopeful look in House's eye.

"Sure! Thanks again for all the stuff; it's great!"

"If you play your guitar tonight, remember to keep it down."

House rose from the chair and got his keys out. He felt like he ought to say more or do….something, but he couldn't figure out what it was. He looked lost. Greg got up and gave his dad a bear hug and House reciprocated, realizing that this is what had been missing. He had never wanted to give his dad a hug, but this seemed just right. House smiled down at his son and said "I'm really glad you're here. I wouldn't want it any other way." With that, he turned and walked out the door leaving a very happy young man to fend for himself another night.


	8. Chapter 8

_**Disclaimer: Dreamer that I am, I would like to say House is mine, but he is David Shore's instead. House, the younger, on the other hand, is mine!**_

**Here's a new chapter, hot off the presses! Thank you everyone for your kind comments and support! It warms my heart!**

_**Like Father, Like Son**_

_**Chapter 8**_

Three weeks after Greg's arrival on House's doorstep, House had his monthly appointment with Dr. Nolan. House had arranged to meet him halfway so that he had a chance of seeing Greg before he went to bed. On the drive there, he considered how in the world he was going to break the news that he had a son to Nolan. It was almost as hard as it was going to be to tell Wilson.

The worst that could happen was that Nolan would suggest that he was unfit and recommend foster care for the boy. Obviously, House hoped that it wouldn't be the case, but he figured that it was a definite possibility. If he were in Nolan's position, he might suggest the same thing. First, House didn't know the slightest thing about being a parent. That was an obstacle that House could refute easily, though. No one who is a first time parent knows anything about parenting; they might think they do but it's a lie they tell themselves to keep from panicking every time the kid cries. The next argument would probably have to do with his mental stability. That argument might be more difficult to win. There was a reason that House had to live with Wilson, after all. What was Nolan going to think when House told him that Wilson didn't know yet? Why did he have to tell Nolan anything at all? He could avoid all of this if he chose to and Nolan would be none the wiser.

House arrived at the designated location. It was a diner about halfway between Mayfield and PPTH. House liked it because it had strong coffee and booths that he could prop his leg on comfortably. They were made to seat eight people and were extra long. House found Nolan waiting for him in a back booth. Nolan casually saluted to him and House nodded a greeting as he sat down. He was glad to see that Nolan had ordered him a cup of coffee and it was steaming.

"Good to see you, House!" Nolan smiled as he spoke.

"It is at that, you are one lucky man!" responded House.

"You're starting the deflection early; you must have a lot on your mind today."

House hated Nolan for knowing him so well. He thought that he might try on Nolan what had worked so well on Wilson.

"I've been spending lots of time at my apartment. My long lost son came into town and I've needed to entertain him."

Nolan looked hard at House, looking for a sign that would indicate the truth in the statement. House stared back, trying to look like he was teasing.

"You might be able to fool Wilson with that, and make him think you've got a girlfriend instead, but I think you are telling the truth. How old is he?"

House sighed, relieved that he had someone to discuss things with, finally. "He's fourteen. The first time I saw him it was like looking in the mirror at a younger me."

As House talked, the more animated he became. He told Nolan Greg's history as far as he knew it and then bragged on his son's brilliance both intellectually and musically. Nolan noted to himself that this was the first time that he had ever seen anything like joy on House's face.

Suddenly, House sobered and then stopped talking. Nolan realized that it had cost House a lot to confess that he had a son. He was certain that House feared what his response would be.

"You sound well, Greg, like a proud papa!" Nolan smiled and House felt the weight of the world lifting from his shoulders. "How do Wilson and Greg get along?" The weight was back.

"Wilson doesn't know about Greg" answered House honestly. "He's been staying at my apartment."

Nolan sobered noticeably "You've moved out of Wilson's place and he isn't the slightest bit interested in why you've left?"

House swallowed "I haven't moved out of Wilson's. I bring Greg breakfast in the morning and dinner at night. I try to see him at lunchtime, but if I can't, I call or text. I know that he gets lonely, but my place isn't big enough for the two of us and I'm not ready for Wilson to know about this. He thinks I'm having an affair with a married woman and I'm not giving him reason to think otherwise. I know him. He is going to judge every decision that I make regarding Greg. I don't need that right now. He goes all parental on me regularly. What's he gonna do with my kid? This is working for us right now. I just need a little more time."

"I understand your concerns, Greg, but I don't think it's good for a boy to spend so much time on his own."

"I know it isn't, but once everyone knows, things will never be the same."

"They will never be the same anyway." Nolan told House. "What you are struggling with is how this change will affect your relationship with Wilson and the others who are important in your life. Let's talk about how you feel certain people will react and give you some tools for managing your responses to them."

House sighed. "It can't hurt, I suppose."

"Where would you like to start?"

"The team, I guess; their response matters least to me but I spend the most time with them. Foreman will keep his thoughts to himself, but he will look with disapproval at me. It isn't like I can change anything, so I can just ignore him. Thirteen won't have much of an opinion. She'll take it at face value and be willing to act as an impartial sounding board. Taub and Chase will be jealous. Taub has figured out that he wants kids, even though Rachael doesn't. He will feel that it isn't just that I get "ready made" what he has been wanting for himself. Chase has seen me as a father figure for awhile, now. We don't discuss it, but to some extent the feeling goes both ways. Chase is going to feel displaced. I can point out to him, though, that Greg has been around for weeks and nothing has changed between us."

Nolan responded with a nod and was thoughtful before he spoke. "You have already given this some thought, I see. Since I don't really know these people, I'm going to assume that you have a good handle on them. What about Dr. Cuddy? Does her reaction concern you?"

"Yes and no. On the one hand, it will reinforce her notion that I sleep around, so I will be subject to her smug knowledge that somehow I'm getting what I deserve for my alley cat ways. On the other hand, we both have children, now, and so we have something new in common. On the other hand, my child is biological and she might resent that. How many hands is that now?"

A deep chuckle emanated from Nolan. "Three. Dr. Cuddy might feel that it is, indeed, a strange twist of fate that you have what she spent years trying to conceive when you have never indicated any such desire. Tread lightly with Dr. Cuddy. Seek her opinion over some things. Whether you do, or not, allow her to think that you respect her opinions when it comes to child rearing. You need her as an ally. She's your boss and she can make or break your career. She is also an important friend. I don't know how you feel about her romantically, but regardless, she is an important person in your life. You have a history. Now, what about Wilson?

House sat silently for over five minutes and Nolan saw no need to interrupt House as he reflected. Finally, House made eye contact with Nolan as he began to verbalize his thoughts regarding Wilson.

"Wilson's going to be pissed. He's going to be pissed that I didn't tell him that I had a son. The thing is, though, I did tell him and he didn't believe me. He thought that my having an affair was a more likely explanation for my change in routine. I just opted to let him think what he wanted to. He's going to be pissed that I don't want to share responsibility for Greg with him. I know he's going to think that I'm a poor excuse for a father and if the child were an eight year old girl, I might just be inclined to agree, but Greg is nearly grown. I remember being fifteen and I'm capable of helping Greg navigate the remainder of his teen years. The boy is more mature than most kids his age. He was raised with love by three people and he has a strong, positive self image. He isn't nearly the troubled kid that I was at that age. He's very self-assured, but I know he's been sheltered. Homeschooling allowed him to learn according to his musical bent, but it made him oblivious to his gifts."

Nolan gave House a puzzled look, making House realize that he needed to clarify what he was saying.

"Greg may very well be one of the most gifted musicians in the world right now. The boy is beyond belief. When we first played together, I improvised a jazz piece and he improvised on what I was doing. Modulating into key changes didn't begin to faze him. He's totally intuitive. When I told him how impressed I was with his skills, his response was essentially 'Doesn't everybody do it?' The kid had no idea that he was gifted! He thought that playing like that was normal. Well, it's kept him humble and allowed him to pursue other interests. He wants to be a doctor. Did I tell you that? He's what I think I could have become under better circumstances. I spent more money on him in one day, than I've spent on myself in two years. Well, not counting the bill for Mayfield. I bought him a bike to get around on, and a primo guitar! The guitar of my dreams happened to be the guitar of his dreams, too! He sold his to get the funds to come here."

House abruptly sobered, tears welling in his eyes. Nolan looked at House, stunned at the depth of emotion, which had sprung seemingly from nowhere.

"Do you know what Renee did?"

Nolan shook his head in response.

"She wrote him a lullaby using a melody that I had made up for her. She sort of tied our history into it. As far as I can tell, she never said a word against me to our boy. Can you believe that? What a gift! Yet, I can't even thank her for it. In hindsight, maybe I should have followed up with Renee. We really connected, even though out paths were clearly moving in different directions…and there was Stacey……the infarction…."

"What Renee gave you and Greg was a wonderful gift, House. You are right. I think that by raising her son with the love and guidance that she can not longer give him you will be, in a sense, thanking her."

House nodded and used his napkin to wipe away the traitorous tears that had fallen. House then looked at Nolan, rolled his eyes and said, "You'll take what just happened to your grave, right?"

Nolan smiled and nodded. "Go home to your boy, House. It's good that you have each other."

Without speaking, House stood and exited the diner, leaving Nolan with the bill.


	9. Chapter 9

Like Father, Like Son

Chapter 9

Greg said good-bye to his dad and hugged him before he walked out of the 221B Baker St. condo. The minute House exited, Greg sprang into action. He checked the "letter of intent" that he had written and placed it into a folder and then into his backpack. As an afterthought, he cleaned up the kitchen and wiped off the island in the middle of the kitchen where they had stood to eat breakfast. Greg had learned early in his life that it was always good to be able to point out positive accomplishments when there was a risk of retribution for his actions. Today had the potential to be one of those days!

He then showered and carefully shaved his peach fuzz, using an old electric razor that he had found under the bathroom sink. He remembered the scene in Home Alone when the kid had used the aftershave and screamed in pain with its application. He braced himself as he dabbed the cool liquid on his face and smiled as he realized that his concern was folly, until the full force of his actions were revealed. It wasn't all over his face that the aftershave seared into his nerve endings, just where microscopic little nicks had occurred! He filled the sink, running the water full force and plunged his face into it catching his forehead on the tap in its descent. An involuntary gasp caused Greg to inhale the water as his face made contact with its surface. As he coughed and spluttered, he thought decidedly, "This morning is not going well!"

As he looked at the few things that consisted of his wardrobe, Greg realized that the only thing suitable for the task at hand was the shirt and trousers that he had worn at his grandma's funeral. They were wrinkled and Greg wasn't sure that they had been washed since before then. He tossed the clothing into the dryer with a dryer sheet and hoped for the best. As the clothes tumbled, he looked through his dad's ties. Some of them were truly hideous and Greg hoped that they had been gag gifts; otherwise his dad had some serious issues when it came to fashion. On the other hand, his dad had the coolest tee shirt collection ever! Greg chose a tie of midnight blue. His mom always liked it when he wore blue, because she said that it brought out the blueness of his eyes. He smiled at the memory and ignored the voice within, (her voice), that suggested that this might not be such a good idea. He grinned, just thinking about getting out of this place and into his dad's business! The clothes came out of the dryer looking better than he had expected and he carefully dressed. He was very glad that before his grandpa died, he had taught him how to tie a tie. Greg looked at himself in the mirror and aside from acknowledging that he needed a haircut, he thought that he looked pretty good! The handsome young man grabbed his letter, and with a cocky swagger, headed to the bus stop.

There was no need to worry about missing his stop for the hospital, the building was imposing and well identified. Like most hospitals, there were signs indicating which entrance to use given the mission. Greg had heard that the Dean, a Lisa Cuddy, had her office near the clinic and so that was the entrance Greg chose. Greg thought about just finding his dad's office, but he thought credentials from the Dean would smooth his way with the doctors he might encounter. He had his speech prepared and the letter would hopefully ensure his entrance. His biggest concern was getting past whoever stood guard for Cuddy. There was always someone like that for important people!

Just then, Greg noticed a petite woman appear at the nurses' station. The way she dressed seemed weird for someone like a Dean, but she fit his dad's description perfectly. Greg took long strides willing himself not to lose his nerve and not to drool. The closer he got the prettier she became! It was now or never!

"Dr. Cuddy?"

The woman turned at the sound of her name. "Yes."

"My name is Greg Dubois."

"I'm pleased to meet you, Greg. What can I do for you?"

"I'm interested in an internship. As a homeschooled student, I have the advantage of being able to work at my own pace and follow my interests. I'm hoping to become a doctor and would like to shadow someone in the fields of Oncology and Diagnostics."

"I'm between appointments, right now. Why don't you come in and we can talk further about this." Cuddy gestured toward her office and then followed Greg in.

"I appreciate you seeing me with such short notice, Dr. Cuddy."

"It's not a problem, Greg" responded Cuddy with a friendly smile. "Please tell me more about yourself. How old are you?"

"I'm fourteen. I was raised in New Orleans, but I have recently started living at my dad's place."

"I usually only accept older students, Greg. Why do you think I should make an exception for you?"

"I've wanted to be a doctor my whole life. There are other things I could do, but medicine is the most challenging of my options. Also, I know that I will need to have spent time around the medical profession, before I'm admitted into any medical school. PPTH has a great reputation. It would be foolish of me to go anywhere else." Greg hoped that his sucking up had sounded sincere.

His blue eyes danced as he spoke. He was gangly and still growing. When he filled out he would be handsome, but for now his expressions drifted between solemn and goofy. As Greg was speaking, Cuddy had been looking at him trying to figure out who he reminded her of. It was her inability to place him that made her decide to take him on as an intern, of sorts.

"Greg, do you have any brothers or sisters here at PPTH?"

"No ma'am, I'm an only child."

Cuddy nodded her acknowledgment. "I need to talk to the department heads of Oncology and Diagnostics. Dr. Wilson, from Oncology won't be a problem. He'll make you feel welcome and answer any questions that you might have. You may never see Dr. House. He will pawn you off on one of his fellows and that's probably a good thing. He can be…difficult.

"You will need to follow a few rules. You are to stay with the doctor you are assigned to at all times. You are not to speak to the patients without permission. If you have questions wait until you are in private to ask. Finally, when you are in a patient's room and a doctor asks you to do anything, do it without question. It might be a life or death situation and you don't want to distract the doctor from doing his job. Now, do you have any questions for me?"

Greg shook his head.

"Alright then, I will call you Monday morning after I meet with the doctors that you will be working with and we will set up a schedule for you then." Cuddy rose from her seat and Greg followed suit.

"It was nice to meet you, Dr. Cuddy. I appreciate your willingness to give me a chance."

"The pleasure was mine, Greg! This is a teaching hospital and there is always room for a student who is eager to learn!"

GHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGH

House and Wilson sat in Cuddy's office looking expectantly at Cuddy who was wearing the lowest of her low cut blouses. House knew that when she wore that shirt, he wasn't going to like what she had to say.

"Let's just get this over with, Cuddy; the girls aren't gonna work on me today!"

Cuddy sighed and resigned herself to an uphill battle.

"A student met with me last Friday who is interested in doing an internship here at the hospital, I'm going to have him shadow, you first, Wilson, for two weeks. Then, House, he will shadow you."

"No, Cuddy, he won't." House stood and left the office.

Cuddy sighed and said to Wilson, "Well, that was predictable!"

Wilson shrugged. "It may be best if House isn't involved with this kid. Keep them apart so he can have a good first experience without all the sarcasm that House brings to the table."

"How about I give House clinic hours whenever Greg is here?" Wilson smirked when he heard the kid's name. "Ironic, isn't it?"

"I like the symmetry!" Wilson grinned. "When it's time for his Diagnostics rotation, I'll supervise as he works with one of the team. Who do you think?"

"Let's wait and see," replied Cuddy. "Give him opportunities to interact with all of them and we'll see who stands out as the best match, or we can let him have an opportunity to work with all of them. They each have something different to offer."

"Sounds like a plan. I'm going to let you tell House that he's getting extra clinic duty that he can't pass off to the ducklings, since that's why you get paid the big bucks!"

"That…and you're not brave enough to do it yourself!"

"Touché!"


	10. Chapter 10

_**Disclaimer: House isn't mine. Just on loan for a bit. David Shore on the other hand is one lucky man! He own the whole shootin' match!**_

**Hope you enjoy a little father-son time!**

_**Like Father, Like Son**_

_**Chapter 10**_

House came home from PPTH that night in less than a good mood. Another responsibility was the last thing the doctor needed. It didn't matter, though; he wasn't going to do it! To add insult to injury, he had found out later in the day that until it was his turn to take on the intern that, thanks to his cheery disposition, he would get to spend his time in the clinic. It was a small price to pay in order to avoid working with some snot nosed, wet behind the ears, know-it-all brat.

Greg sensed House's mood as he came through the door and decided that it would be a good night to follow his own interests. The power of House's mood was terribly intimidating and he hadn't said a word. House tossed his backpack onto the floor, just inside the door, went to sit at the piano and began to play _Ride of the Valkyries, _a fast and furious piece that spoke volumes about his mood to those who were musically inclined. Greg understood. He went to the fridge, got a beer, opened it, and placed it on a coaster on the piano within House's reach. House drank a quarter of it without missing a beat, then finished the piece and began it again. Greg wasn't all that fond of the piece and wasn't going to hear it repeatedly. He had his limits.

As House continued to play, Greg decided to take matters in hand. He sat down next to his dad on the bench and started playing Turkey_ in the Straw_. The really cool thing about music is if you know enough about it, you can mix and match melodies to make seemingly unrelated pieces fit together. Since he was raised in a musical family who enjoyed the music of PDQ Bach, Greg was able to do this trick with skill. A smile played around House's lips, but he wasn't ready to let go of his bad mood just yet.

"Apparently, you haven't been to the _House School of Leave me the Hell Alone_," he growled

"Apparently, you haven't been to the _Dubois School of Get Over Yourself!_"

"I'm the dad. My school can beat your school any day."

"Could be, but at least my school won't act like spoiled brats if they get beat!"

Greg fumbled a note and they both laughed. House started playing "Turkey is the Straw" and Greg switched to "Summertime" by George Gershwin. House switched to Raindrops on Roses and after a time Greg started playing Phantom of the Opera.

"Cool!" was House's response. "You have skills, boy!"

"I'm alright at this but you should have heard my mom and grandpa go at it!" Greg fumbled another note and stopped playing. "I can't talk and play worth a darn, either."

"Remind me not to offer you a piece of gum while we're taking a walk."

Greg laughed heartily and relaxed knowing the storm had passed. "Wanna take me out for dinner, tonight? I'm sick of this place."

House thought long and hard about where he could go with little risk of being seen but everything seemed too risky.

"Is it the need to get out or are you tired of eating more of the same?" asked House, hoping for the latter.

"Both. You're the only one I ever see, really. I'm getting to know people around town, the guys at the bike shop and the music store, but they are never going to be friends. At the music store, the guys either work there or they're loser wannabes that can only talk about who wronged them and make lame excuses for why they never made it big. They all wonder why I'm not in school."

"So what do you tell them?"

"The truth. I'm done with high school and I've just moved to town and the semester had already started at the colleges when I arrived. They don't question it. I'm going to ask if I can teach guitar and piano there. I can't charge what I'm worth but I can make some pocket change." said the boy pensively.

"You can't charge what you're worth?"

"Yeah, if I had my degree, I could charge from twenty-five dollars on up. Right now I can only charge ten. Bummer."

"You haven't enough money?"

"No, I haven't enough to do! I'm bored, Dad, all the time!"

House nodded silently. Fine, you're right. Let's get you out of here." House stood to go to his room and change clothes into comfortable jeans and a t-shirt. Someday, father and son would look remarkably alike. Now, the family resemblance was harder to see, but not impossible.

House and Greg went to a town an hour away from Princeton. It was only then that House could enjoy being with his son without being found out. They ate at Joe's Crab Shack and they both agreed that what they could get in New Orleans would be better. At dinner that night, Greg heard his dad's side of the story of his conception. He saw a gentleness in House that the people of Princeton-Plainsbough Teaching Hospital never saw. House was animated and effusive when he spoke of Renee and her abilities. He spoke with love and admiration, and a respect that Greg didn't think his father possessed for anyone. By the end of the conversation, love for a mother and love for a friend had been rekindled, and both men left the restaurant with full hearts as well as full stomachs.

After dinner, House and Greg saw a movie. House commented that it was worth the trip to that theater, just for the popcorn. Despite the fact that they had just eaten, they each had a large drink, a large bucket of popcorn, and candy. It was after 1:00a.m., when the movie let out and House received glares from passersby because he and the boy were out so late on a school night. Greg overheard House grumbling that it was none of their damn business how late he kept his boy out!

As they approached Princeton, a cloud of gloom, once again descended over House. Greg decided that he would ask what the trouble was, but before he could, House exposed the problem on his own.

"Cuddy wants to take on a new intern. The first few weeks,  
Wilson has him and then my team gets him. I'm supposed to be working in the clinic while the kid's there. She and Wilson seem to think that my cheery disposition will frighten him off."

"Would it?"

"Probably."

"Seriously, Dad, how bad can clinic be? It's a walk-in clinic, right? You see each patient for not more than about ten minutes, and then they're gone."

"They're idiots! They can't even tell me their symptoms correctly half the time. One lady came in with breathing troubles once. I asked her to show me how she used her inhaler and she sprayed it in her neck like perfume! I lost money on that one, but she really needed to be told what and idiot she was."

"You lost money on it?"

"Yeah, sometimes Cuddy pays me extra to be nice. She's even paid me for diagnosing people without touching them!"

"Sounds like fun, to me!"

"It would be if they weren't all so boring. I get tired of swabbing throats and crotches. That isn't my thing."

"What is your thing?"

"You know… diagnostics. I get the worst of the worst; what everyone else has given up on. That's my thing. I prove that the impossible cases aren't impossible. I cure the incurable. I AM A GOD!" thundered House. As House wound himself up, he had also driven faster. Flashing lights and a siren had accompanied his final words.

"I'm convinced, now all you have to do is convince the cop," quipped Greg.


	11. Chapter 11

Like Father, Like Son

Chapter 11

House pulled his old beater to the side of the road and retrieved the necessary information from his wallet and the glove box. Given the hour, the cop walking up to the car was in shadow and House put down his window without bothering to note the officer's appearance.

"House, we meet again." The voice was immediately recognizable and House couldn't have been less amused.

"Tritter." House passed his information through the window, without making eye contact. He wasn't interested in making excuses or giving Tritter any reason to detain him any longer than necessary.

Tritter took the information and looked through the window to the passenger in the other seat. "He a little young for you, isn't he, House?

"This is my son, Greg. Greg, Officer Tritter."

"It's nice to meet you, sir." replied Greg, respectfully.

"I don't recall you having a son, House."

"He's a new addition to my life."

"I guess. Some bimbo from your past caught up to you, huh?"

"My mom wasn't some bimbo, take it back!" had come out of Greg's mouth before House had a chance to stop him.

"His mom was a musician who lost her life in Katrina doing rescue work; a little respect for the dead, Tritter."

Again, Tritter looked through the window at the boy. House figured that he was checking for some indication that the boy was not being held against his will or a child prostitute. "Greg, do you carry any ID?"

"No, sir, homeschooled kids don't have picture IDs like public and private school kids. I have a library card with my name and address on it, though…well, my name anyway."

House hoped that Greg's words didn't sound as lame to Tritter as they did to him. The next order of business would be to get Greg a picture ID. He wondered if Greg had his birth certificate and social security card in his backpack back at the apartment….

"House!" Tritter's voice jolted House out of his thoughts.

"Um…what?" responded House figuring that now Tritter would think he was on something.

"He seems like a nice kid."

"Yeah, he is. Sorry, I was just thinking that I needed to get Greg an ID and wondering if he brought the stuff he needed for that."

"I don't really need to see anything. He has your eyes, your build, he's yours. Slow down and put your kid to bed, it's late." Tritter handed House's information back to him.

House nodded as he put his driver's license back in his wallet and stuck the rest back in the glove box. "Thanks."

"Make him get a haircut before you get that ID for him."

"I think he likes it that way."

"Yeah, I guess they do at that age. I've kept tabs on you and I hear that you got clean. Stay that way. You're a dad, now."

House fought the urge to make a sarcastic comment. He hated the condescending tone in Tritter's voice. Greg took care of it for him.

"Yeah, like he hasn't figured it out already! You know, he doesn't talk to me like I'm an idiot and I haven't heard him talking to you like you're one, so show a little respect please. If you were a dad, you wouldn't want someone talking like that to you in front of your kid!"

"He's got your mouth, too, but he has a point. Sorry House."

House nodded. He was too stunned to respond. An unease silence followed and eventually House spoke up. "Like you said, it's late and I need to get the kid to bed. Can I go now?"

Tritter nodded and House pulled away, barely brushing by the officer as he made good his escape.

"I appreciate the sentiment back there, but that guy is as volatile as they come."

"I got that you knew him."

"Oh yeah, he came into the clinic with a social disease. I knew what it was and offered to medicate without testing and he got ugly. I said something scathing and when I turned to walk away he tripped me. I exited the clinic leaving him with a rectal thermometer stuck where the sun doesn't shine. I was pretty proud of it at the time but not anymore. Things got worse before they got better and Cuddy ended up perjuring herself on the witness stand in order to clear me. It wasn't pretty. In the end Tritter and I sort of cleared the air. I still don't trust him, never will. If he ever comes snooping around, don't answer the door if I'm not there."

"Okay, got it."

"Come to think of it, unless you're expecting a delivery or recognize the person at the door, don't answer it. So, do you like it that long?"

"What?"

"The hair…"

"I guess. It's never been this long before. Nobody told me to cut it or made the appointment and so it just grew." Greg thought about the internship and decided that a haircut would be a good thing. "I should probably get one. I like it, but I don't suppose it's very professional."

"Why would you need to look professional? I guess for giving music lessons, right?"

"Yeah…" Greg was relieved that his dad had answered his own question. Exhaustion had set in long ago and he wouldn't have been able to answer. He'd forgotten about the teaching gig. He rested his head on the back of the seat and closed his eyes.

"Hey kid, wake up. We're home!" said House as he jostled Greg back to wakefulness. Greg dragged himself out of the car and into 221B. House pointed him in the direction of his bedroom and Greg wandered down the hallway. He stopped, though and turned to face his dad.

"You know, Dad, we all make mistakes. I don't think any less of you after what happened and what you told me tonight. I still love you."

A weight lifted from House that he didn't even know he was carrying. As long as Greg was being candid with his feelings, House decided to be, too.

"I love you, too. It means a lot to me that you stood up for me tonight. I've never had the sort of family that would do that for me. It was…nice. Mind if I stay on the couch, tonight? Greg thought about needing to be at the hospital in the morning but wouldn't have told his dad no if his life depended on it."

"Do you want your bed? We could share."

"I'll stay on the couch. I need to leave early and don't want to wake you."

"Good night, then," Greg turned and headed to bed. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Probably not, since I'll need to go back to the loft to clean up. I'll need to get there early enough to stomach a lecture from Wilson, too." House wondered it staying the night was such a good idea, after all. The thought of facing Wilson made him sick. Maybe he could sneak in and Wilson wouldn't notice that he had been gone. Just then his cell phone rang and it was Wilson. House answered sleepily "What…?"

"I was just wondering if you were okay, House."

"I'm fine. I went to a movie and then had a little chat with Tritter. It seems he's been keeping me on his radar in more ways than one. Apparently, he just wanted to chat because he didn't write me a ticket. It was kinda creepy. Anyway, I came back to 221B, in case he followed me. He doesn't need to know about the loft as far as I'm concerned. I'm sleeping here tonight. I'll plan to see you at PPTH tomorrow."

"I'm glad everything's alright. I'll see you tomorrow, House."

House closed his phone and smiled at Greg. "Trouble averted, I guess!"

"Good for you. I'm going to bed, Dad." Greg didn't even wait for a response.

House sat down at his beloved piano and played Greg's lullaby, singing softly the parts he could remember. He drank a glass of scotch and stretched out on the couch. As House thought about his day, he remembered the intern. If the kid was anything like Greg, maybe it wouldn't be so bad….


	12. Chapter 12

Like Father, Like Son

Chapter 12

"Wilson, need you in clinic. I have someone here - alone, pretty, probably dying, just your type. Her lungs sound like an OCD convention at a bubble wrap factory. One last thing, as terrible as she sounds her pilot light is still lit. There could still be hope. I'm not interested, it's too mundane, but I thought you might be. Oh, and did I say she's pretty?" House disconnected before Wilson could reply that he would be right down.

Without looking at her file, House asked, "Do you have a name?"

"Jewell" she replied in a breathless whisper.

"…first or last name?"

The woman slumped back onto the exam table and House called for clean-up on aisle three as he left the room. He grabbed a file and headed into the next room. Good thing Wilson was on his way down.

Of all the days for House to foist his clinic patients off on Wilson, he couldn't have picked a worse one, as far as Wilson was concerned. At this very moment, he was supposed to be meeting the new intern and taking him off Cuddy's hands, but instead he was arranging a room for one of House's castoffs. He met his assistant, Sandy as she was supervising the patient's move to intensive care. As long as he was there, he decided to make his newest patient's acquaintance, so he stopped the gurney.

"I'm Dr. Wilson…um…" he checked the chart, "Jewell. I will be in to check on you shortly. Sandy will get you all set up in the meantime."

The woman looked up at him with deep brown eyes and nodded. "Thank you," she whispered.

Despite her illness, Wilson saw the same light burning within the woman that House had. Suddenly, he had an intense desire to cure this woman. "I'll see you soon." Wilson nodded to Sandy and watched as she left with his newest patient.

As he was headed to Cuddy's office, Wilson noticed House saying something to Nurse Brenda as he handed her a file. House was acting almost…professional. Maybe he was actually recovering from the events of the past year and finally moving on. The men made eye contact and nodded to each other, and then Wilson turned and headed into Cuddy's office.

Greg and Cuddy looked up as Wilson entered the office. Greg thought the man looked a little harried and apparently Cuddy did too.

"What's House done this time?"

"Remarkably enough, aside from his timing, he's been good. He presented me with an interesting patient and he's being kind to Brenda. Who could ask for more? All we need to do now is get the new intern passed him without incident and we'll have it made!"

As far as Greg could tell, these doctors thought of House as a child that needed careful management. He knew that his father needed special handling, but Wilson was his best friend and it seemed odd that even he seemed to tiptoe around him.

Greg felt an intense desire to take the focus off of his father and so he thrust his hand toward the doctor. "Hello, Dr. Wilson, I'm Greg Dubois. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"It's nice to meet you, Greg. You may call me Wilson. We have a strange sort of casual formality around here," he chuckled. "You picked a good day to start. I have a new patient. I don't believe that she's a cancer patient, but if House sent her to me, she must hold some sort of interest for me. House doesn't usually gift me with patients so I'm rather curious about her."

Greg started to comment about his dad when he realized that if he did he would blow his cover. Had he opened his mouth, he would have been safe though because there was the slamming of doors and yelling in the clinic.

"I want to talk to whoever is in charge. I have never been treated so rudely!" screamed the clinic patient.

As Cuddy exited her office, she asked rhetorically, "tell me again why I insist on House doing clinic duty?"

Fortunately, the conversation remained loud enough for Greg and Wilson to hear.

"He wants to remove my brain!"

House argued, "Only the part she doesn't use - a total brainectomy."

"House, what have I told you about making outlandish comments like that to the patients?"

"But Cuddy, she doesn't use it and I would be making the world a better place! Seriously, she wouldn't miss it and nobody would notice a difference!" House whined.

"House, apologize," ordered Cuddy.

"Alright," he replied petulantly. House turned to the patient and began. "I'm sorry that you haven't the brain God gave a rubber ducky."

"House!"

"I'm calling my lawyer!"

"Don't worry, Cuddy, dialing a phone takes higher level thinking skills, we're safe."

Curiosity got the better of Cuddy and despite the fact that she knew she shouldn't ask, she couldn't help herself. "House why is she here?"

House smiled. "The impact is greater when said with a straight face." House motioned to the woman to tell her story.

"My hand was stuck in the jelly bean jar."

"Why didn't you just open your hand?" ask Cuddy.

"I would have dropped the jelly beans!"

"House, you win, schedule your surgery!" said Cuddy as she turned to go back into her office.

The woman fled in terror and House went to eat a few jelly beans and take a nap in the exam room.

Cuddy returned to Greg and Wilson rolling her eyes. "Seriously, how does he manage to get these patients?"

Wilson shook his head. "He does seem to have a knack when it comes to getting the idiots!"

"You need to leave now while House is napping. I won't bother him until you're gone"

"How do you know he's napping?" asked Greg.

"He went into an exam room without a file in his hands."

Wilson looked toward the exam room and seeing that House was still there motioned for Greg to follow. "We need to be quick. He has a nose for sneaky behavior, too!"

Once they were on the elevator, Wilson heaved a sigh of relief. I think we'll go check on Jewell first. Then, we'll go to my office and I can answer any questions that you might have.

As they entered the ICU, Wilson stopped by the nurses' desk to get verbal input on Jewell and then they went to her room. A little rehydration had helped Jewell's lucidity considerably and she was alert when Wilson and Greg entered her room.

Jewell looked at Wilson with curiosity as he checked her file. In a barely audible voice, she asked, "Have we met?"

"I introduced myself downstairs in the clinic," responded the doctor. "I'm Dr. James Wilson and this is my trusty sidekick Greg."

The levity of Wilson's comment made Jewell smile and nod. "I remember now. You know, I'm feeling better, now. I think that I just have the flu or something. I really need to go." Jewell started to get up from her bed, but in her weakened condition, all she could do was lift the covers off of her frail body, then lie back down. "But then maybe not…" her voice trailed off as she sank back into a light slumber.

Finally, Wilson took Greg to his office and offered him a seat on the couch. In an effort to determine Greg's powers of observation, Wilson asked, "What do you think of Jewell?"

"She seemed a little preoccupied; like she had someplace else she needed to be. Even though she is so sick that she can barely lift her head off the pillow, she tried to leave. That tells me that she has something or someone to get home to."

"I agree," responded Wilson. "I bet if we're patient we'll find that she has a secret. House seems to think that I have the ability to draw people out, so maybe that's what he saw, too. He doesn't like to get involved with patients, but he can always read them when he does. People think he doesn't get involved because he doesn't care, but I'm inclined to believe that he doesn't get involved because he's prone to care too much."

Greg nodded his head as he absorbed this information about his father. He, too, wondered the same thing. House had certainly been more than generous with him, even though, he had arrived on his doorstep a total stranger. His father hadn't doubted for a minute that Greg was who he said he was.

Wilson and Greg chatted a little longer about privacy issues and other hospital protocol, and then they said their good-byes. Wilson walked Greg to one of the many sets of hospital doors and suggested that these would be the best to use if he were to avoid a certain cranky doctor. They also agreed that Greg's name would be used as little as possible. Wilson suggested it believing that if House has less information about him then he would be less likely to try to intimidate Greg into leaving before it was his turn to take the intern under his wing. Greg, of course agreed because he wasn't interested in his father knowing about his presence in the hospital, just yet.

After his nap House wandered down to the cafeteria and discovered Wilson entering at the same time. House smiled at Wilson as he greeted his meal ticket. They went through the line and as Wilson paid for his lunch, as well as House's Reuben, he thought what he always did, "Tomorrow I'm making House pay. Yeah, someday pigs will fly, too!"

The two men enjoyed their lunches and discussed their mornings. It was determined that Jewell mostly needed rehydration, then once the labs came back that House had ordered, they would decide what to do next.

"Tell me again," Wilson inquired, "Why did you give me Jewell?"

"She looked like she needed someone who cared and your name came to mind. I also thought that you might like a break from cancer."

"House, do I actually hear you caring?"

"Oh, God no… alright, you caught me! I have a hot little number I'm doing and I wanted to distract you so I could take her to the loft and jump her bones without having to put the stethoscope out. It might ruin the impression that everyone in the building has that we're gay!"

"Fine, I'll accept her as a strange sort of gift."

"Consider it the booby prize for letting Cuddy stick you with an intern."

"You're real funny, House. You'll be please to know that the intern seems to have some skills. He's intuitive and that's unusual for an intern. Usually, they are so busy trying not to be wrong that they just defer, but this one has a mind of his own."

"We'll see…" House responded distractedly. As they had been talking and eating, House had been glancing over at a small child sitting alone at a table. She didn't have food in front of her but wasn't watching the line for someone to bring her anything, either. From three tables over, House heard her stomach growl and Wilson even turned in response to the noise.

"I bet she wandered off and someone is looking for her," commented Wilson.

"Security hasn't been notified, though, so no one is missing her, yet." House saw the most mundane situations as potential puzzles and this was no exception.

The child must have felt eyes on her, because she made eye contact with the men and then looked away. She gave no evidence of intending to move, though. Apparently, she had faith that whoever she was waiting for would make an appearance.

After saying good-bye to House, Wilson bussed their tray and headed back to his office to get some work done. House stayed behind and pondered the child for awhile longer. Finally, he made a decision and moved with determination to the cafeteria line. He grabbed a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, an apple and a container of chocolate milk. House passed the cashier and ordered her to put it on Wilson's tab. As he was leaving the cafeteria, House tossed the food onto the table where the little girl was sitting and then continued on his way.


	13. Chapter 13

Like Father, Like Son

Chapter 13

Greg entered House's apartment bearing the meatball sub and Coke that he had picked up at Subway on his way home from the hospital. He felt really good and was glad that he had spent an informative and productive morning at the hospital. Wilson was going to be good to work for. He wasn't sure how he felt about Wilson's treatment of his dad, (Cuddy's either, for that matter), but he had seen first hand the trouble that House could stir up. He was glad that he wasn't a fool because House didn't suffer fools. On the other hand, House had shown Wilson a kindness in his own backhanded way. As long as House had been present, things felt off balance; like at any minute the place could blow apart. House didn't give off vibes like that at home, thank goodness. It was exhausting! As Greg had been thinking his thoughts, he had toed off his shoes and changed his clothes. He hung them carefully in the back of House's closet, out of the way. He made the mistake of stretching out on the bed to contemplate the rest of his day and dozed, leaving the sandwich and coke untouched.

He awoke to the sound of keys in the door and the tones of a happy House whistling as he entered his home.

"What ho, young House?"

Greg mumbled out an indiscernible reply.

"Sleeping at 4:00? I cut out on work early to spend quality time with my son and I find him asleep! You are definitely my son!"

"Haven't you heard that proverb 'A loud and cheerful greeting early in the morning will be taken as a curse.'?"

"Yes, but I thought it only applied to me, and its late afternoon."

"You would."

House grinned. "You're cranky!" He went to Greg's electric guitar, turned up the volume and played the lick that had lured him, like the Siren's song, away from the hospital.

It was the first time Greg had felt House's chaotic energy at home and he wondered if his dad had already figured out what he was up to. He didn't need to wonder for long though because House was ready to talk.

"I, Greg House, performed a good deed today! I found a clinic patient that had "Wilson" written all over her and I delivered her to him. He may have had to deal with an intern, but that patient more that made up for the inconvenience of the intern. She was…..she was a "damsel in distress" and although she didn't need what I had to offer, she needed a better than the average doc, so I sent her to Wilson."

"So you think she has cancer?" (Was he supposed to know Wilson is an oncologist?)

"No, I'm pretty sure she doesn't, but she needs someone who cares and Wilson is all over that. I also gave a kid a sandwich. Strange, too, she was waiting for someone and I don't know if they ever showed up. I didn't see the kid's teeth, but she couldn't have been very old. Are you even curious about what made the whole thing strange? I'll tell you anyway." House carried on. "I cared. Twice today I cared. I think you're making me soft. I open my heart to a kid and suddenly I care about other people. Wilson might think this is a good thing, if I could tell him about it, but this is bad. It will mess with my diagnoses. This is bad."

House noticed the untouched food on the coffee table. "What's up with the food? Are you feeling okay?"

"I'm fine. I picked it up while I was out today and made the mistake of stretching out before I sat down to eat."

"Been there, done that. I'll warm it up for you and then you can share it with me." offered House.

"How generous of you," Greg responded. He levered himself from the bed and wandered over to the piano, his nimble fingers joining in with House's guitar. He wondered if the walls were thick enough to buffer the noise that they were making, and then decided that he didn't care. He modulated up a step to annoy his dad, and House put down the guitar and headed to the kitchen to warm Greg's food.

"Mission accomplished," thought the boy as House looked at his son knowingly and said "Mission accomplished."

One thing House appreciated about Greg was that he didn't seem to be affected by his bum leg. Greg didn't cater to him and let him tend to things without worrying about whether or not House was in pain. Some might think it inconsiderate, but House found it refreshing. The microwave dinged and true to his word House took half of the sandwich for himself.

"Thief!" Greg grinned at his dad as he said it.

As they ate Greg's sandwich, House realized that they hadn't discussed his son's day. He wasn't really interested but he supposed that it was the "dad" thing to do.

"How was your day, was it overly boring?" House asked.

Greg was relieved that his dad hadn't asked about what he did today. This question was easier to answer honestly. "Oh, I read, played guitar, went for a bike ride, talked to some guys about some stuff (that would be Cuddy and Wilson), and then napped. I should probably get a haircut. If I'm teaching guitar and piano, I should probably look more professional."

"Since when do people expect guitar players to look professional?" inquired House.

"Moms of budding piano players do, especially when the teacher isn't much older than the student."

"I get that, but don't feel like you have to be _status quo_ in order to do your thing. Be yourself and the respect will follow when they hear your crazy awesome skills."

"They have to be willing to listen first," responded Greg.

"It's their loss if they don't."

"I'll keep that in mind. My plan is to build a clientele and a reputation and then I'll worry about the length of my hair. Grandma always made me keep it trimmed and I'm hearing her voice telling me that I need a haircut. Do you wanna fix something else to eat? That meatball sub wasn't as filling as I expected."

House smirked as he pulled other leftovers out of the fridge and proceeded to warm them up as he spoke. "I'm home early this evening because I have an appointment in the morning with my shrink. I'm going to tell him about you… if that's alright with you."

"Sure. Just tell him the good stuff though. You know… how I got my mom's looks…and talent…and brains. You can leave out the part where I got my laziness and caustic sense of humor from you."

Greg had sounded so serious that House had to look him in the eye to be sure that he was teasing. House smiled when he saw the gleam in Greg's bright blue eyes. "My boy!" Just then, House recalled that he had already told Nolan about Greg. "I just remembered that I told Nolan about you at my last session. I tried the same thing on him that I tried on Wilson, but he saw right through it. He's not going to be happy that nothing has changed. I still live with 10Wilson and you still live here."

"Do you think Nolan would like to meet me? Maybe if he gets to know me he'll understand that this arrangement really does work for us."

"I hadn't considered that. Let me think it over and I'll tell you what I decided before I leave for work in the morning."

As the evening progressed the men jammed on their guitars and the piano. Their friendly one-upmanship encouraged them both to play better and so what may have looked to the common man like so much time wasted, there was actually a whole lot going on between the men. The relationship was growing, they were learning how to work together, and finally, their musical skills were being stretched and developed.

House saw Greg fight back a yawn and realized that it was time to leave. He hung his guitar on the wall and turned to leave.

"Greg, I think I'll go solo with Nolan tomorrow. My last session was all about you and I need to talk through some things with him that we were working on before that. My parents, especially my dad, were no saints and I would like to avoid some of their mistakes, if possible."

Greg smiled, relieved about his dad's decision. "That's fine. I can stay busy. Are you going back to the hospital after your session?"

"No, I don't, usually. Well, I come here to process the session without Wilson's help. I think I will go back to Wilson's tomorrow night, though. He's on call and he usually just stays at the hospital so he's close to the action, so I'll be safe. Can you survive a night without your old man?"

"I survived fourteen years without him. What's one more?"

House looked hard at Greg trying to see if there was any guilt being sent with that statement, but there didn't seem to be any at all, just a large dose of mischief! Apparently, if there was any guilty conscience in the room, it was House's. If only he knew about the secret life Greg was going to be living right under his father's nose!


	14. Chapter 14

_**It has been nearly a year since I posted! It doesn't seem like so much time should have past. I apologize for making everyone wait for so long. From here on out I will try to post a chapter about every two weeks.**_

_**Thanks for reading,**_

_**Anne**_

**Like Father, Like Son**

**Chapter 14**

Greg was excited for the day to begin. Since his dad would be out of the hospital today, would have free rein of PPTH and he might get to meet his dad's team. He cleaned himself up and put on one of his dad's seldom used dress shirts and a tie. The sleeves of the shirt were too long, so he rolled them to just below his elbow the way that he had seen Wilson's shirt the day before. Greg realized that he had a few problems that needed fixing right away. He needed his own clothes for working at the hospital, he needed an income and he needed to make sure that they really were going to hire him at the music store. He had spoken to his dad as though it were a done deal, but the truth of the matter was that he had spoken to the manager in passing and the manager had seen it as a possibility. House seemed to know the people at the music store pretty well and Greg would have been really embarrassed if his dad had gone into the store, mentioned Greg teaching and the manager looked at House like he didn't know what he was talking about. The boy realized that he needed to resolve that issue fast! When he got done at the hospital he would head to the music store straight away.

Greg walked into the hospital with his backpack slung over his shoulder. He looked around at the people and wondered how many of them knew his dad and what they thought of him. Greg also wondered what his dad thought of them. Whatever it was, it probably wasn't good. Greg saw Dr. Cuddy scurrying toward him and hoped that he hadn't done anything wrong already.

"Good Morning, Greg!" greeted Cuddy. "You are right on time! Some of the doctors that work for me have never learned that art. You are already ahead of the game."

Greg knew instinctively that Cuddy was referring to House.

"Good Morning, Dr. Cuddy. I try to be on time, but being dependent on the bus, I can't promise you that it will always happen."

"I'm sure you'll do your best," Cuddy replied. "Wilson is in his office waiting for you. He wants to introduce you to House's team while House isn't going to be there to interfere."

"If House is such a jerk, why do you keep him around?" The words were out of Greg's mouth before he had time to consider them.

First, the Dean of Medicine looked shocked, then amused. "We don't speak of him in a very good light, do we? House is brilliant beyond words. He saves people who have no other hope. But he's….broken, and that affects his outlook on life. He needs to work, stay busy, because it distracts him from his pain. The hospital is good for him, and he is good for the hospital. Just stay out of his way and don't give him a reason to dislike you. He can't get rid of you, but he **can** make you miserable." Greg nodded and started to move to the elevator, but Cuddy stopped him. "Greg, House isn't a bad man. He's one of my best friends. Don't let the harsh exterior fool you when you meet him. He's a good man, but he's….guarded. It takes awhile to earn his trust and he doesn't suffer fools." Greg nodded and continued on.

Wilson was standing in the hallway as Greg got off of the elevator. He smiled kindly and warmly shook Greg's hand. "Greg, it's good to see you! Are you ready to meet the team?"

"Sure!" Greg nodded and followed Wilson.

"House's office is next to mine, so regardless of who you are working with I will always be readily accessible."

The room they entered was made of glass, with a large glass table near the center. To the left, was a small counter with a sink and a coffee maker. A man with sandy colored hair stood at the coffee maker waiting for it to finish brewing.

"Chase, looking at the pot doesn't brew it any faster. Just give it time". The man who was harassing Chase was smallish with thinning dark hair."

"Do you think he will notice the difference?"

"Do you think I really care? _I_ didn't break the pot."

Wilson cleared his throat, interrupting the two doctors. "Chase, Taub, if you aren't too busy, I would like for you to meet Greg Dubois. He will be doing an internship with us for the next month or so."

Both men approached Greg and shook his hand as they identified themselves. The two other people who had been sitting at the table stood, as well.

A black man held out his hand to Greg. "Foreman. Welcome."

"Remy Hadley, but they all call me Thirteen" Greg was stunned at the beauty of the cat-eyed woman in front of him.

"Hi!" replied Greg, sounding like the fourteen year old that he was. Gathering his wits, he also said, "It's very nice to meet you both."

"Polite. House is going to have a field day with you." Taub sounded concerned as he said it, but his eyes were dancing indicating that he thought that this could be fun. "Maybe House will forget to stick his nose in our business while he's busy sticking it in yours."

Greg looked like a deer caught in the headlights and Wilson decided that it would be good to change the subject. "So what happened to the coffee maker?"

"Chase threw House's tennis ball at it last night and it broke," responded Taub.

"You were _supposed_ to catch it," volleyed Chase. Taub shrugged seeming not to care about his part in the mishap.

The new coffee maker sighed as it finished its job, sounding as though it was already tired of the bickering. Chase poured coffee for those that wanted it and everyone agreed that the coffee was as good, if not better, than the coffee of the previous coffee maker.

Before talk could turn back to him, Greg asked, "So what do you do?"

Foreman spoke first. It seemed, in his own eyes, anyway, that he was spokesman for the team. "We receive a case. Normally, House chooses a case from a stack of pending referrals unless Cuddy asks him to take on a case, or a doctor sends the patient from the ER or the clinic."

Greg looked at Wilson. "Like Jewel!"

"Right." Wilson nodded once.

Foreman, not knowing what they were talking about, and not caring either, continued on. "Each doctor gets a copy of the patient's file and we use the white board to list the symptoms. Usually, we need to get blood work and do testing that will either confirm or refute our current theories. Occasionally, we go to the patient's house and look for environmental causes for the disease."

"When we are breaking and entering, we usually take either Thirteen or Chase. That way, if we get caught, there is someone pretty to deal with the cops." Thirteen, who was sitting next to Taub as he spoke, swatted at him but didn't refute the claim.

"If all else fails, House goes and talks to the patient." Foreman, undaunted, continued.

"You mean he doesn't talk to the patient first thing?"

Thirteen answered Greg, this time. "House deals with the patients as little as possible. He finds that they are unreliable sources."

"Everybody lies." Greg sounded so much like House as he said it that suddenly all eyes were on him. "It sounds like that is House's philosophy. Don't trust the patient because everybody lies." Greg laughed uncomfortably. "Does he really think that?"

"Yes," said Wilson, "but he is also afraid of getting involved and losing perspective. He would never admit to that, though"

"Ohhh, Dr. House cares sooo much about the patient!" Chase responded in a falsetto voice.

Foreman rolled his eyes, Thirteen giggled and Taub just shook his head.

Feeling the need to defend House, Wilson emphatically exclaimed, "He does!" Greg laughed out loud thinking that his dad would be calling Wilson a girl if he could have heard it.

Just then the phone rang. No one jumped to answer it so Wilson reached over and put it on speaker phone.

"Are you talking about me, yet?" House's voice filled the room and the entire team rolled their eyes. "I can hear your eyes rolling. I know you're all there. Speak up. Foreman, do we have a case, yet?"

"No, feel free to play hooky all day, House." Indeed, Foreman was spokesman for the team.

"Wilson, are you there with "Eddie Intern" to introduce him my team?"

"His name isn't …."

"I don't care what his real name is! He isn't going to stay, anyway. I'm not going to deal with him and my team isn't babysitters. They can barely take care of themselves."

The team looked uncomfortably at Greg who just stared intently at the phone. He knew better than to speak.

"Eddie, don't get too comfortable. You won't last." With those final words, House broke the connection. House was a presence even when he wasn't there and everyone felt the void he left behind.

Wilson broke the silence by announcing that he was taking "Eddie" on rounds and then they would be in the clinic.

It was nice to meet you, 'Eddie', said Thirteen with a grin. "It's good to have you here. Don't worry about House. He's actually warming up to you. Once he's named you, your one of the team."

"Uh…he's never even seen me. How could he….?"

"It's House's process. Your silence makes you interesting to him. He can't resist a puzzle and an intern that doesn't speak up to defend himself is definitely a puzzle.

"Let's let the team get back to doing nothing so that we can get some actual work done, Greg," Wilson suggested as he moved to the door. "I want to look in on Jewel and need to do rounds and read a couple of articles on new treatment protocols."

"Bye, Eddie!" called the team as Wilson and Greg left.

As they walked toward Jewel's room Greg took time to consider the team. They seemed nice. They certainly didn't take House too seriously, but they did seem to respect him. He was looking forward to getting to know them better, but at the same time he was realizing that laying low and staying off of his dad's radar was going to be really difficult. If House was going to think of him as "Eddie", Greg wasn't going to argue. His dad may have made the whole situation easier. House wouldn't be putting things together very quickly if he didn't even know his intern's actual name!

Entering Jewel's room, it was clear that she was highly agitated. Although she was asleep, Jewel was thrashing in her bed. She was saying "Rubies"! At least that's what it sounded like to Greg. Maybe she was trying to figure out how to pay for her hospital stay. Greg supposed that she could have been robbed, too. It was clear, at any rate, that the fever that had been going down the day before was on its way back up, again and Wilson was going to need to figure out how to bring it back down.

"Greg, I don't like what I'm seeing. The antibiotics aren't working I think we need to talk to the team."

Greg felt his heart lurch. He hadn't anticipated a differential so soon after his internship started. He knew that he would have nothing to offer, but even if this was happening six weeks down the road, the same would be true. "You don't think they'll ask me anything do you?"

"The team would ask only about her symptoms and any observations that you might have made. The cool thing about House's differentials is all the things that come into play. Other doctors just look at the medical issues. House looks for environmental clues and personal clues - things that another doctor wouldn't consider relevant. That's what makes him so good at what he does."

Wilson stood beside Jewel's bed for a time, just holding her hand. "You aren't alone, Jewel. We will figure out what this is and get you better in no time."

"Rubies" was all that Jewel could say it seemed.

Wilson patted her hand as he released it and headed back toward his office. Greg couldn't imagine his father doing that no matter how hard he tried. He just didn't seem to be the kind of person that was good with bedside manners.

"So what happens, now?" Greg asked.

"I'm going to send copies of the file to the team and then order lunch to be delivered. The team wasn't really planning on doing much today, so I figure that it won't hurt to sweeten the pot."

On the way to his office, Wilson stuck his head into the conference room. Greg saw that Taub and Chase were now flicking a triangle of paper across the glass table, Foreman was reading a medical journal, and Thirteen was surfing the internet.

"I have a case." The team stopped what they were doing and looked at Wilson. "House sent her to me yesterday thinking that she would make a nice diversion from my cancer patients. I put her on antibiotics, but her fever isn't coming down and she may be having hallucinations. She keeps calling out 'rubies'."

"House isn't here," responded Chase, as if that settled the matter.

"I'm buying lunch."

"Send the file," encouraged Foreman as his stomach growled loudly.

Throughout the meal, the white board filled with ideas. First, the symptoms were listed and then the differential began. Greg heard words that he had never heard before and often had no idea what they were talking about. Thirteen wrote them down and as she did, she told Greg what they meant. Remy Hadley was not only pretty, she was considerate, too! Greg was thinking about just how pretty Remy Hadley was when he realized that she was talking directly to him.

"Eddie…." Greg fell back to earth. "Do you have anything that you want to add that could be relevant?"

"Uh…"

"Spoken like a true teenager," said Taub acerbically.

"Taub, give him a chance he's new to this."

"He looks like he should still be in the eighth grade," retorted Taub.

"Ninth," responded Greg, "But I'm really smart."

"Just ignore him, Eddie. Taub's just jealous because you're taller than he is!" Chase interjected. "What do you have for us?"

Greg thought carefully about all that he had seen of Jewel and heard during the differential. The team was impressed that he was willing to be thoughtful and not allow himself to be flustered just because all eyes were on him. "She was really dirty. I mean really, really dirty. Maybe she's homeless and lives in a box or something like that. If she did, she might have that disease that you get from bats, histoplasmosis, or rats, leptospirosis?"

Taub, newly impressed with Greg, responded, "Don't end a statement with a question mark when you're in the process of impressing the competition. Good job, Eddie." Taub's change in attitude made Greg's head spin.

"I'll take Greg with me to get the samples I need and then to the lab to confirm which it is" stated Thirteen as she stood and nodded to Greg to follow. Greg didn't think he could get any happier.

After collecting the needed samples, Thirteen and Greg went to the lab. Thirteen prepared the slides and then showed him on the computer what each disease would look like when they looked through the microscope. Thirteen allowed Greg the first look through the microscope.

"Histoplasmosis"

Thirteen looked and nodded. "Step aside, Dr. House, you have competition!"

Greg discovered that he could be happier!

After starting Jewel on the proper medication, Thirteen and Greg returned to the conference room to report back to the team and Wilson. Everyone shook Greg's hand and congratulated him on his first diagnosis. Wilson looked like a proud papa and Greg wondered what his own dad would have thought of his performance. How in the world was Greg going to stay silent about this? Well, it just had to be, for awhile anyway.

After Greg left the hospital, he stopped at the music store and was provisionally allowed to teach piano and guitar. All of his students would be eight years old or younger and for the first few lessons, one of the adults on the staff would need to be present. Greg agreed to the conditions and shook hands with the owner of the store. Now all that he needed was a student or two.

Exhausted, Greg made his way home. He knew that he needed to by some work clothes, but that would have to wait. The excitement of the day was wearing off and all he wanted was food and sleep.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

House sat in Nolan's waiting room thumbing through a "medical journal" that Nolan had set out for him to peruse. He appreciated that Nolan was thoughtful enough to take into account House's considerable intelligence by leaving the magazine out for him, but House would have rather looked at the tattered and torn _People_ and other "entertainment/gossip mags" from years gone by. He found a _Soap Digest_, stuck it into the journal, and caught up on _Prescription Passion_ and _General Hospital_ in the synopsis section. The doctor thought it all sounded very familiar and checked the date - July 2005 - that figured.

Nolan finally stuck his head through the office door. "Greg?"

House dropped the magazine as though he was a twelve year old caught with a _Playboy._

"Luke and Laura reuniting again was a real shock to me, too!" laughed Nolan, knowingly.

House gave Nolan an inquisitive look.

"You left a _Soap Digest_ inside my medical journal the last time you were here."

"And I thought I was the smart one." House stood and went into Nolan's office.

"And how does that make you feel?" joked Nolan in his best, really bad Freudian accent.

Not into encouraging, Nolan or his imitation of Freud, House sat down and waited for Nolan to stop smiling. House hadn't smiled yet. He had things on his mind.

"What if I screw this up? My dad sucked at being a father."

Nolan's response wasn't all that surprising. House had rehearsed the whole conversation in his mind as he rode his motorcycle on the way to the appointment.

"What makes you think you would screw this up?" asked Nolan.

"It's what I do."

"That will only happen if you allow it to. You, of all people, know that change is possible. You have made great strides recently." responded Nolan. "As for your father, he only has as much influence as you allow. He's dead. He isn't going to hurt you again."

House sat thoughtfully for a moment. "The damage has already been done. It can't be undone."

"It can be used, though, to help you become the kind of father that you want to become."

A wry smile passed quickly over House's lips. "Ah…remember what he did and do just the opposite."

"Something like that, yes. I don't get the impression that Greg is the sort of kid that is going to require a lot of discipline from you. Guidance, possibly, but from what you have said before, he isn't a mischief maker. Don't go looking for trouble before it exists. Run through some scenarios that might come up, if you like, and decide how you could respond, but don't project your youth onto him. Your backgrounds are very different so you can't expect him to behave as you would have when you were that age."

Silence filled the room as House considered the shrink's words. He hadn't been far off when he imagined the conversation. That his own wisdom was apparently Nolan's wisdom gave him a boost of confidence. Maybe the father thing _was_ something that he could handle without totally ruining the kid. House felt….good!


	15. Chapter 15

_**Yet another new chapter! I hope you enjoy!**_

**Like Father, Like Son**

**Chapter 15**

House entered the conference room to the sounds of an animated team.

"Don't let House know what Eddie did, or he'll be replacing one of us!" teased Chase.

"What _did _Eddie did?" asked House as he hung his sport coat over a chair.

The team looked at each other silently. They were amazed by "Eddie", but at the same time, they were rather ashamed that they, the professionals missed the diagnosis. The ducklings knew they were going to hear about it from House.

Unwilling to speak up yet unwilling to let anyone else take on the role of spokesman, Foreman confessed. "Eddie got the diagnosis yesterday."

"The woman had a head cold. I sent her to Wilson for TLC, not a diagnosis. What were you doing with her case?"

"She spiked a fever late in the morning after showing some improvement overnight. The antibiotics weren't doing a thing," added Taub.

"That's because a head cold is a _virus_. It just needs to run its course! I figured that Wilson could cure her then take her out on a date. I'm getting sick of him hanging around the apartment all the time. He needs a diversion."

Taub was getting annoyed at House's attitude. "House, this was no head cold; she spiked a fever and hallucinated. She kept saying 'rubies." we ran through a list of symptoms, but couldn't agree on a diagnosis until we asked for Eddie's input. He suggested histoplasmosis and it fit. Thirteen and the kid ran the tests and confirmed."

Scathing didn't begin to describe the look that House gave the team. "Please tell me that you're kidding?"

Thirteen determined that it was her turn to take House's abuse. "We weren't looking to him for the diagnosis. This is a teaching hospital and we wanted him to have an opportunity to participate and feel included. He wasn't going to learn anything by standing on the sidelines. After he suggested histoplasmosis and leptospirosis, I took him to the lab, showed him what each disease would look like under the microscope and let him figure it out."

"Alright class, what did you learn from this little exercise?" House asked sounding like a teacher with a class full of first graders.

"Don't forget to look for the easy stuff first." sing-songed Taub.

"Sure. Fine. We'll go with that. Cuddy never told me that my team got off the short bus every morning"

Rolling his eyes, Foreman felt the need to respond. "We learned our lesson; can we move on now?"

"No. All of you go to the clinic and do my hours. I think you need to get back to basics"

"You just want to play on your Nintendo DS," accused Thirteen.

"That too," admitted House. He left the conference room and went to his desk where he got his game out and proceeded to play. As they filtered out he hollered to them, "Don't come back until you have a case!"

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Sitting in Wilson's office, Greg strained to hear what his father was saying to the team. It didn't sound good. House was supposed to be in the clinic, nowhere near where he actually was. Wilson was saying something but Greg wasn't listening. He knew that he was about to be busted and could only ponder the inevitability of that fact.

Wilson had been saying that since Jewel, thanks to Greg, was on the mend, she would probably be released within the week.

"Greg….Greg…..Greg!"

"Huh?"

"You've been preoccupied ever since we got back to the office, what gives?"

"House is supposed to be in the clinic, but I hear him in his office yelling at the team. I suppose it's House, anyway, since someone's yelling."

"Why I expected House to actually stay in the clinic just because Cuddy told him to, I'll never know. You may be meeting him sooner than we expected," said the doctor with a sigh of defeat.

"Not if I can help it!" Greg look alarmed as he spoke the words. "I'm just not ready to meet him, yet. I…I want to be more sure of myself."

"You can't always get what you want."

"As the philosopher Jagger used to say…."

Wilson lifted his eyebrows. "You and House have more in common than you might think. Once he gets used to your presence, you'll do just fine."

Greg glanced at the clock. "I really need to go. I have another commitment in the afternoons. Do you think you can get me by House?"

Wilson nodded. "I'll have House meet me on the balcony between our offices to discuss lunch plans and you can leave then." Greg waited until Wilson gave the "all clear" by walking out onto the balcony after House and then left without wasting any time.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

In the cafeteria, House and Wilson sat eating lunch. Wilson watched curiously as House observed a young girl sitting by herself. To Wilson's surprise, House got up and moved to the table where she seemed to wait aimlessly.

"You've been sitting here a long time." House's voice sounded harsher than he would have liked. "I bet that sandwich I gave you wore off a long time ago. Are you hungry?"

The little girl nodded.

"I have a friend who likes to buy lunch for people. I bet if I ask him, he'll buy lunch for you." Without waiting for a response from her, House motioned to Wilson to bring their food.

Once Wilson arrived at the table, House continued "Go get in line and Wilson will buy you anything that you want."

She looked at Wilson for confirmation and he smiled and stood, beckoning her to lead the way.

"Wilson made you get the broccoli, didn't he?"

The girl nodded.

"He can eat it for you then. That stuff is disgusting"

"But it's good for her, House," argued Wilson.

"Don't you know anything, Wilson? Friends don't let friends eat broccoli."

A small giggle rose out of the little girl. It was the first sound the men had heard from her.

"What's your name? If we're going to feed you, we get a name."

Nothing.

"Maybe she's mute"

"We're strangers." House produced the most exaggerated eye roll that he could muster. "Don't you know anything, Wilson? I'm House, he's 8Wilson. Now talk."

"Ruby," the words were spoken so softly that the doctors could barely hear her.

"Ruby? Ruby!" Wilson nearly flew off his seat as he realized what he had been hearing from Jewel!

"Is your mommy's name Jewel?" asked 1Wilson excitedly.

"No, her name is Mommy."

House smiled at the child's response. "I think we know where Mommy is. Why don't you come with us and you can see her?"

"I can't. I need to wait here for Mommy," she said. It was clear from Ruby's tone of voice that she had no intention of moving.

House started patting his pockets as though he was looking for something very important. When his hand touched a tiny spiral notepad, he gave the appearance of extreme relief. "I have a note from your mom. Do you want to hear it?"

Wilson started to say something but thought better of it. If House could persuade Ruby to come with them, then he wasn't going to stop him.

House cleared his throat dramatically and, despite herself, made Ruby laugh. "Dear Ruby," House intoned in his most motherly falsetto. "Please allow these nice men to escort you to my room. I am anxious to see you. Love, Mommy."

The men looked hopefully at Ruby

"Did she really write that?" she inquired.

"No, responded House, but I don't want to have to summon a policeman to carry you there kicking and screaming, so I decided to give it a try."

"House!" Wilson exclaimed, "You really can't threaten her like that!"

House rolled his eyes and Ruby giggled.

Standing, Ruby said, "I want to see my mommy, now." House and Wilson wasted no time leading the way.

HHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

By the time Greg walked into the music store, he'd shed his tie. He wasn't excited about someone watching over his shoulder as he taught guitar and piano lessons, but it was a small price to pay in order to have an income of his own. It was just a few lessons that would be supervised so all he needed to do was bide his time for a bit. Greg knew how to be patient. That was a trait from his mother, he supposed, since he hadn't gotten it from House! Greg smiled at the thought. His mom would be proud of him. He had used his initiative to get not one, but two jobs. He could have let his dad support him but, he liked feeling independent.

A loud shriek yanked the younger House from his reveries.

"I'm not taking piano lessons! I'm not! I WANT TO PLAY GUITAR!"

A child not more than six years old was embarrassing his mother to the core. She was now trying to drag him from the store without anyone taking notice but it was a hopeless cause. Greg saw the opportunity to gain a student and although, it wouldn't be pretty, he decided to see what he could do to help. Hustling, he caught up to the mother and son before they were able to exit the building.

"Excuse me!" Greg yelled, just as the child stopped to take in air. It figured, first impressions are very important, after all. More quietly, he said, "Maybe I can help. I teach piano _and_ guitar. We haven't got a guitar just your size right now, but maybe I can teach you something about reading music by using my piano while we find a guitar that you can use."

"But I want THAT one!" The child pointed randomly to the wall with the guitars.

"Darling," the mother tried to placate, "these guitars are all as tall as you. It will be years before you are big enough to play something like that."

The child threw himself on the floor and began to rage. Greg rolled his eyes in traditional House fashion and beckoned to the woman to move away so that they could talk.

"We can order ½ size guitar. I started out with one when I was about 5 or 6 years old. I won't teach him on an electric, though; he's loud enough as it is." Greg didn't apologize since he wasn't sure how committed he was to acquiring this particular student.

Suddenly aware of the lack of attention, the boy settled himself and moved to listen to his mom and Greg converse. "I'm big! I can play a big guitar!"

Greg went to the wall and grabbed a guitar, checked the tuning, and played a simple melody. "Sit on the floor," he commanded the child. Once Greg placed the guitar in the boy's lap, it was obvious that he could barely see over the body of the guitar and couldn't reach the end of the fretboard. The child slumped in defeat, ready to listen to Greg. "If it's okay with your mom, I can order a guitar that you can play. I can teach you to play it, too, but I don't teach kids that behave like brats and you …need to work on listening."

Greg looked to the mom as he took the guitar and placed it back on the wall. He noted a slight nod, so he showed the boy the catalog with the two guitars he had shown her. One was a lovely classical guitar with a red cedar top and mahogany sides and back. The other was an acoustic folk guitar with a deep brown pick guard and a blond top made of spruce. The boy was torn although the mom had already fallen in love with the classical guitar. The decision was made though, when Greg saw that the folk guitar was a ¾ sized instrument.

"I think you should go with this one," Greg said as he pointed to the picture of the classical guitar. "The other one is bigger and I didn't notice that before." The boy smiled at Greg, relieved that the decision had been taken out of his hands. Greg handed the catalog to the cashier and started to introduce the woman when he realized that he had never introduced himself.

Holding out his hand he began his introduction. "My name is Greg House-Dubois; I just started teaching piano and guitar here. Well, I haven't got any students, yet, but that's the plan."

"Well, you have a student, now, if you think you can handle him. I'm Amanda Hughes and this is Charlie."

Greg shook Charlie's hand as the boy grinned up at him. "Let me show you some stuff on the piano, while your mom and Andy get your guitar ordered. I had one just like that when I was your age." Greg had walked over to the pianos and played the same melody that he'd played on the guitar earlier.

Charlie hopped up on the bench and said "Play it again!"

Greg complied with the boys wishes and then let him bang around a bit while he grabbed a beginning piano book from a rack not far away. He showed the boy the book and talked about the note names and their location on the piano. By the time Amanda was finished with her transaction; Charlie had learned the C-scale and was working on the first lesson in the piano book. Greg took the book and placed it back on the rack.

"Hey! That's my book!" announced Charlie.

"This is a piano, and I'm certain that you said that you didn't want piano lessons, so this goes back where it belongs."

"Maybe I do want piano lessons!" snipped Charlie.

"Ah….but I don't teach brats." Greg walked away.

"I won't be a brat anymore, I promise!" exclaimed the little boy, close on Greg's heels. "I'm sorry!" he whined.

Greg moved to place the catalog back in its place and then went back to the piano to play some more. Charlie was still at his side only calmer, and more pleasant.

"Please teach me piano and guitar?"

Greg rolled his eyes and sighed. "I suppose I can, if you can stop your caterwauling every time you want your way."

Charlie laughed. "I can."

Greg looked at Amanda and smiled. She took Charlie's hand and they headed out the door together.

As Greg watched them leave, he heard Charlie ask, "Mommy, what's caterwauling?"


	16. Chapter 16

_**This chapter is lots of dialogue and not a lot of action. There is some humor, though! I hope you enjoy! **_

**Like Father Like Son**

**Chapter 16**

**.**

"House, you're going to have to go back to your own place. I'm moving Jewel and Ruby in with me when they leave the hospital," announced Wilson at breakfast, the day Jewel was to be released.

"Like hell, I am" replied House. "Do you know what kind of trouble you're asking for by doing that?"

"They have no place to go."

"I'll find them another box. You can help me pick it out."

Wilson and House both sighed, but for entirely different reasons.

"Wilson, what do you know about these people? I wanted you to ask her on a date, if you were interested. I didn't want you to adopt her and the brat," House argued. "She might rob us blind while we're at work. The ethics of this is questionable too."

"You don't concern yourself with ethics, so I can only assume that this is about _you_ not wanting to move out."

"Think Wilson. What if she decides that it would be fun to extort money from you to keep silent about the sex you aren't making her have?"

"Do you ever think well of anyone?"

"No, especially the people I don't know!"

"But you know them, House!" argued Wilson.

"I avoid them! I couldn't pick them out in a crowd. Wait, I could; they would be the dirty ones."

Exasperated, Wilson sighed and tried to begin again. "Alright, you can stay. Would that make things better? You can sleep on the floor in my room and they can have your bed."

"How does that make it better for me? If I went back to my place, I would have my own bed, bathroom, kitchen, and living room!" House sighed. "You can sleep on the floor in my room and give them yours."

"But it's my apartment!"

"It's your naiveté thinking that this is going to work out any way other than badly. There is a reason they are homeless. Don't you think that you should find out what that would be before you open your home to them?"

Wilson left the room, returned with his hands on his hips, raised a finger to make a point and left the room again. Wilson returned and repeated these actions one more time. House could taste victory.

"What would you do?" asked Wilson, wearing a different tie in order to cover the fact that his coming and going was a result of House besting him.

"I would release them and never think about them again."

"House, she has a child!"

"And that would affect me how?"

"We can't just let them wander the streets." Wilson was whining.

"I can. I said we could get them a new box. I'll even spring for a can of waterproofing." Whining from kids irritated House, from Wilson it was unacceptable. "Get over it Wilson. Grow some chest hair and man up!"

Wilson left the condo, slamming the door behind him. He returned seconds later for his brief case and left again, slamming the door harder this time. House smirked realizing that one's children never really grow up.

**HHHHHHHHHHHHH**

Greg had time to wake and stretch before he heard his phone ringing.

"What," he answered, sounding very much like his father. "This had better be good."

"I'm not going to make it for breakfast this morning. I need to stay here and lock up the valuables."

"Huh?" said Greg, not sounding very intelligent.

"We, no, Wilson wants to bring a patient and her daughter back here to recuperate."

"Oh, Ru-…oh," Greg almost gave away that he knew more than he ought to.

"If I can't prevent it, I at least need to do a background check and make sure there isn't anything here that I care about. At least they can't lift my organ."

"Dad!"

"It's a musical instrument. Get your mind out of the gutter."

"Gross. Not that. Did you do a background check on me?" Greg was fully awake now.

"Of course not; you look just like I did at that age. I didn't need to."

"Fine. You should have, you know. Maybe I have a criminal record."

"You're my son. It wouldn't matter. I would still be responsible for you. I'd know if you were hiding something, anyway. I'm that good." House smirked as Greg flinched. The young man was very glad that his dad couldn't see his face. "If you knew Wilson, I'd say to hit him up for breakfast. I enjoy spending his money. By the way, I want you to know that I intend to stay with Wilson and guard his family jewels or should I say guard him from 'the Family Jewel', but if I'm feeling too crowded or Wilson and Jewel get chummy and start playing house, or 'Playing House', his emphasis was clear, you may be getting a room mate." House hung up without so much as a good-bye.

"Crap…crap!" exclaimed Greg to no one as he climbed out of bed, wide awake now. "Crap!"

He gathered his things to shower and go to the hospital. The boy knew that things were about to crash down around him and for the first time since he had moved to Princeton he wished he had a friend in which to confide. The steamy shower felt calming as he thought through all the people that he'd met since he arrived in town. No one was his age, not even close. The ducklings were the closest but they all had a good ten years on him. Taub….no he already had a dad. Chase….maybe, but he had a reputation for kissing up to House when it benefitted his position. Foreman…if he needed a brick wall or a freezer Foreman would make a great stand-in. Thirteen…she reminded him of a painting of the Mona Lisa. She had a secret of her own to keep. She had been kind to him and made him feel included. Maybe…. He would just have to see.

Greg's stomach growled and his biggest problem became his empty belly. He decided to get to the hospital early enough to hit up Wilson for breakfast. He had his father's permission after all. Without thinking, Greg put on his jeans and a t-shirt and hopped on his bike. It was a very pleasant morning and he didn't want to wait for the bus.

**HHHHHHHHHHHHH**

As luck would have it, Wilson and Greg entered the hospital doors at the same time. Greg smiled at Wilson with a beguiling, cheeky grin and asked, "What's good for breakfast around here?"

"Stick with the cereal, they can't mess that up." Wilson continued walking, not having gotten the hint.

Greg step-hopped ahead of Wilson, stopping him as he turned out his pockets and looked as pitiful as possible. "I left my money in my other pants." That was the truth. He'd forgotten his wallet and keys as well, he realized.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say that House was coaching you! You play his games and you're wearing his shirt. Well, one similar to it, anyway. Come to think of it, I haven't seen him wearing that one in quite sometime." commented Wilson. You haven't been going through his things, have you?" The doctor laughed before Greg had time to blither. "I'm teasing, Greg, don't faint." The color had drained from his face at Wilson's remark. "Let's get you some food. You really don't look good."

Greg nodded silently and allowed Wilson to believe that he was in serious need of nourishment. As they walked silently into the cafeteria, Greg chided himself for his carelessness. Between the possibility of House moving in and his stomach growling, Greg hadn't even considered his choice of clothing. He wondered if he should change into some scrubs after he got done eating. He didn't know if he would see House's fellows, but he didn't want to get questioned again about the shirt. As the fragrance of sausage gravy and maple syrup tickled his nostrils, Greg's worries fled into the background. He was ready to eat and Wilson was buying!

Once in line, Greg began to fill his tray. He grabbed a bowl of strawberries, and then proceeded to ask for the sausage gravy and biscuits that he had smelled as he entered the cafeteria. Along with that he grabbed scrambled eggs and a pancake. Once he got to the beverages, he took coffee, orange juice, and finally whole milk. Wilson was astounded at the boy's ability to "tuck in" the food. He wondered if all teenaged boys ate that much and how a family could keep from going into debt with such food consumption for multiple meals on a daily basis. He wasn't sure how Greg had fitted everything onto one tray.

Greg smiled and looked over his feast as he sat down to his meal. "So Wilson, tell me about you!" Greg took an entire half of a gravy drowned biscuit and shoved it into his mouth. "Mm….good!" he said around his mouthful.

Picking at his English muffin, Wilson wondered where he was supposed to begin his life story. "I…."

Cutting him short, Greg redirected his question. "How did you meet House?" He buttered his pancake and cut it into quarters and then proceeded to arrange the slices. "I need cream, peanut butter, and brown sugar, too, if they have it."

Without thinking, Wilson acquired the items and set them before Greg. The teen spread the peanut butter on the pancake, sprinkled it with the brown sugar, stacked the four pieces, and then stabbed them with a fork before pouring the cream over the top of the mound. Wilson smelled the conglomeration and thought it just might be the most heavenly scent that he had ever encountered. The look on Greg's face confirmed that he might be right.

"I'm listening but you aren't talking. How did you meet House?"

"We met at a convention in New Orleans about fifteen or sixteen years ago. There were 3,000 people there and House picked me out of the crowd as interesting" Greg choked on the sour orange juice that had made him pucker just moments before. Lost in his story, Wilson continued on without noticing the effect his statement had on Greg. "House followed me to a bar and watched as I got so mad that I threw a bottle through an antique mirror because this guy kept playing the same damned song. It wasn't pretty after that. Suffice it to say, House bailed me out of jail and we've been friends ever since. Shortly after that we ended up at PPTH. Apparently, he put in a good word for me." Greg wondered if all that happened the day before or the day after he was conceived. House left the next day to go back to Princeton, if he remembered correctly, so the day before most probably.

Somewhere between Greg finishing his biscuits and gravy and starting on his eggs, Wilson had stopped talking and was staring into space with a pensive look on his face.

"Wazzup?" asked Greg around a giant bite of egg.

"We're releasing Jewel today and I was going to have her and Ruby come home and stay with me, but House thinks I'm insane. He ought to know," Wilson said, with a chuckle.

With all the astonishment amazement and innocence he could muster, Greg looked at Wilson as though, he was a god! "Gee, Dr. Wilson, that's a really brave thing to do! Jewel looks really nice, and all, but you really never know. She could have been living where she was in that box with Ruby because she was hiding out from some bad guys…or the cops! For all you know, she could have been the driver for some sort of hold up or something like that. You are being very courageous to trust her like that. If it was me, I would have put her up in a hotel or found her a spot in a homeless shelter. You have some nerve!"

As Greg was talking, Wilson was reminded of the _Dennis the Menace_ show on TV. He had watched that show as a kid and even though Mr. Wilson seemed to hate that kid, he could be flattered by him, too. Greg had watched Dennis, also, and he hoped that he could have the same disarming affect on his victim. Telling Wilson that he was an idiot hadn't worked for his dad, but maybe hearing it put in a different light would make the doctor see the error of his ways.

"Thank you, Greg, but I'm not trying to be anyone's hero. I just want Jewel and Ruby to be comfortable as Jewel recovers. I haven't said anything to them yet, so please don't bring up the topic. I suppose that you and House both have a point. There is a certain amount of risk involved in having them stay but I'm sure that House is running a background check as we speak. By the way, add a little sarcasm to that speech and you would just about have House down pat." Wilson smirked.

Greg wiped his plate clean with the last bit of biscuit and leaned back in his seat with a sigh of contentment. "I hope you know what you're doing," he said, "I don't want House to have to supervise me any sooner than necessary; and if you're murdered in your sleep, he'll get the job by default." The boy craned around and looked toward the food line. "Do they have any dessert out yet?"

_**Thanks for your positive reviews. It's really nice to hear from people who read my stories! I really appreciate it!**_


	17. Chapter 17

Disclaimer: David Shore own's House.

_**Finally, a new chapter! Sorry this took so long. I hope you enjoy!**_

Like Father Like Son

Chapter 17

Fortunately, for everyone involved, Jewel's sister came to town. Any differences they might have had disappeared once the sisters set eyes on each other. Ruby and Jewel were invited to live with her and Jewel eagerly accepted the offer.

House and Greg were relieved beyond words that Jewel and Ruby were out of the picture. They both teased Wilson about his disappointment that he couldn't be Prince Charming and ride off into the sunset with Princess Jewel and, as expected, he took the ribbing good naturedly.

Greg and House were discussing the averted disaster over breakfast at House's place the morning after Jewel and Ruby said their good-byes. House, of course, had no idea how much Greg actually knew about the situation and Greg wasn't telling.

"Were you really going to move in with me if Jewel and Ruby stayed with Wilson?"

"Would you want me to?" asked House curious, and at the same time afraid of the answer he might receive.

"No….Yes?" Greg was trying to read House's expression. House knew it and was making it as difficult as possible for the boy.

"I wasn't looking forward to sleeping on the couch, but I was looking forward to seeing you more often." Greg was being as honest as he could while at the same time an ambivalence that he didn't understand gripped his chest. He needed to change the subject immediately, while he could still remember to breathe. "Tell me about the organ that Wilson gave you."

"It's an organ. It plays music rather than performing a bodily function."

Greg deadpanned. "Funny, Dad! Now you can watch me not laugh at your clever way with words."

"Wanna play it?" House had a gleam in his eye that Greg had come to think of as his "let's mess with Wilson look".

Greg thought carefully. He wasn't due at the hospital and he didn't have any lessons scheduled at the music store. "It's cool?"

House grinned an uncharacteristic grin. It was rather scary. "Wilson is at the hospital and I just got rid of a patient. Cured, not killed; just in case you were wondering."

"I never questioned that; it's a given."

"Good! Let's go!" House had been dying to show off the organ to Greg and he couldn't think of a better time than now.

The men tossed their dishes into the sink and together they went down to House's motorcycle. During the trip to Wilson's loft, Greg wondered where all of this was going. He knew that he couldn't keep his secrets forever and each day that passed with him and House together at the hospital was another day that, chances were, he would get caught. He wasn't really doing anything wrong other than he wasn't telling the whole truth. That wasn't really true, either. He was telling his dad the truth about working at the music store; he was just letting Greg Sr. fill in the blanks when it came to the timing of said lessons. As for the time that he spent at the hospital, he just wasn't telling. It was making him more nervous by the day and he really was about ready to tell all.

House pulled into a parking space and both men got off the bike. They took the elevator and House nodded to a woman that seemed to know him.

"Who's your friend, House?"

"Hi Nora," responded House, ignoring her question.

"You aren't going to introduce me to your friend?"

"Should I? Do you really care or are you just being polite?" House was not interested in sharing his life with Nora.

"House is my Big Brother. We get together about once a month. He's going to show me his organ, today!" Greg tried to sound enthusiastic and a little dumb.

"That isn't a euphemism. Wilson gave it to me….the organ, that it."

"It's nice to meet you….uh…."

"It's nice to meet you, too, lady!" replied Greg, still without giving away his name.

The elevator dinged at Nora's floor and she waved as she walked away.

"Bye, Nora" said House to Nora's back.

"Gosh Greg, you're right! She does have big hooters!" Greg smiled at his dad as he made his inappropriate comment. House rolled his eyes and smirked.

"You think those are big, you should see my boss's supertanker of an a-!" The elevator doors closed, cutting off House's final word.

When the doors opened again, they had reached the loft.

"Welcome to Wilson's Home Sweet Loft."

"Where's the organ?"

House pointed to the instrument sitting at the far end of the room. Greg went to the organ and flipped the switch. He started a ground bass using the foot pedals. He looked up to his dad and grinned, then started the melody of Pachelbel's Canon in D. First, his right hand on the upper keyboard, then his left hand on the lower keyboard. This wasn't the first time he'd played an organ, he was proficient. He offered the explanation without being asked.

"I played organ at my grandparent's church. The organist thought I showed potential. It made sitting through the boring services tolerable knowing that I got to play the postlude."

House sat down next to Greg and placed his hands on the keyboard next to his son's. Instead of the classical melody that Greg was playing, House added a bluesy variation, causing Greg to laugh out loud.

"Man, I wish I could do that! You just sit down and play!"

"You'll get there," responded the elder House. "I have a few years on you and experience with solve that. Get confident in being able to play what you are hearing in your head. I, on the other hand, can't read a single note. Well, I have to do that FACE thing and Every Good Boy Does Fine to get the notes and that takes way too long."

Just then, keys rattled in the lock and House whispered and pointed, indicating that Greg should go into the bathroom. The boy did as suggested and locked the door just as the oncologist entered the loft.

"How do you do that, House?" asked Wilson as he entered the loft. "I have no idea how you manage to play so many keys at once. It's really amazing!"

House smirked. "What are you doing here? I need peace and quiet when I play. Get lost."

"I will, just as soon as I find my briefcase. I forgot it this morning." Wilson went into his bedroom, and then tried the bathroom door. "House, why is my bathroom door locked?"

"Since you won't believe it if I tell you my son is in there, I'll just say it's a hooker."

"So why is she there?"

"Your bathroom is bigger and it has a tub."

"You're sharing a bath with a hooker in my tub?" Wilson gave House his disgusted look.

"But it's, oh, so cozy!"

"You'll clean it when she leaves. Gross!"

House received a text from Greg: You are wearing your clothes. What is he thinking?

House responded likewise: He's an idiot.

Aloud, House spoke for both of them. "I'm fully dressed you idiot! Whatever it is that's happening in there doesn't involve the tub…yet." House shot Wilson and evil grin.

"Just don't use my bed. Please." An odd look crossed Wilson's face and suddenly he became serious. House, if you had a kid, and I'm sure you don't, why in the world would you want to hide him…or her from me or anyone else for that matter?"

"IF I had a kid, you would be forever in my business telling me how to raise him and pointing out how I got it wrong or convincing me to send him somewhere so that someone competent could raise him."

"House…."

"Then there would be the rest of the world telling him what an ass I am and how I'm not to be trusted, that I'm an addict, and that I'm probably insane. I'm sure there are some that would actively work on proving me unfit and would try to have him taken away. I'll stick to the hooker story for awhile longer, thank you.

House received another text: Careful Dad. Lighten up!

House took a deep breath. "Do you have what you need?" House grinned and wiggled his eyebrows. "I do have someone waiting, you know."

Looking intently at House, Wilson asked, "Do you really think I would do that; tell you how to raise your kid, that is?"

"Yes."

Wilson shrugged. "You're probably right. Maybe I ought to work on that just in case you have a kid show up on your doorstep, someday."

"You just do that. Now, git!" House smiled and opened the door for Wilson as he grabbed his briefcase.

"Next time remember to hang your stethoscope on the doorknob. I don't like surprises."

House slammed the door behind Wilson. "Finally!"

When House turned, he noticed Greg leaning on the doorframe to Wilson's room. "Do you really think I'm that weak minded?"

"No. I'm that bad. I really wanted you to make your mind up about me before anyone could….tell you the truth about me. I guess I've been honest with you from the beginning, though. You didn't run then when you probably should have."

"I didn't exactly have any place else to go," responded Greg. "You still don't seem all that bad to me."

"I'm still on my best behavior. I want you to stay."

"Good, 'cause I want to stay."

The young man and the old man stared awkwardly at each other for a moment, and then Greg got a very House-like smirk on his face.

"Does this mean we're 'coming out'?"


	18. Chapter 18

Disclaimer: I don't own House, but if I did I would make him a very happy man! As it is, he's David Shore's problem!

_**This chapter is a little shorter than most, but it think it's pretty fun! I hope you enjoy! **__**Also, thanks so much for the reviews. They make me very happy and keep me motivated!**_

Like Father Like Son

Chapter 18

House entered his home to the sounds of a goose being slaughtered.

"I hope you're not butchering that thing in my bathtub. I have plans for that tonight!"

"Dad, look at this," enthused Greg, as he ignored the less than complimentary commentary on his saxophone playing. "One of our customers just got a new tenor sax and was just going to let us put this one in the dumpster! It has a few dents, it _had_ a couple of bent keys, and it needed a few new pads, but otherwise it was great! When I asked if I could have it instead, he said he didn't care what I did with it! The manager helped me straighten the keys and showed me how to replace the pads! I got a $4,000 horn for seventy bucks! I had them put it on your tab.

House's eyes grew wide! "Seventy bucks? You spend seventy of my hard earned dollars and you're not even a little concerned about how I might feel about that?" House sounded outraged, watched Greg go pale, and grinned widely. "Cool!"

Greg grinned in response. "We replaced the bad pads and I needed new reeds."

"You couldn't use the old reeds?"

"Dad, I wasn't going to put someone else's spit in my mouth, gross!"

"Just wait until you get a girlfriend; then someone else's spit won't seem so bad." House grinned wickedly and Greg blushed. "Oh, ho, there is already someone!"

"No, Dad, there isn't any girl. Well, she's old and I think she likes someone else." Even if he wanted to tell his dad how pretty he thought Thirteen was and how nice she was to him, he couldn't, because House didn't know he worked at the hospital.

House grabbed the tenor sax and looped the strap over his head. He played a scale from the instrument's lowest note to its highest and back down again. The doctor played a bluesy melody, losing himself in the mellow sounds.

"Dad….Dad…..You're slobbering all over my mouthpiece…..DAD!"

House looked at Greg and grinned. "I've always wanted to play one of these things!"

"You've never played a sax before and you sound like that." This was a statement rather than a question.

"I mess around with one sometimes at the music store and I fiddled around with one in high school. My dad said that it wasn't an instrument for serious musicians and if I insisted on wasting my time learning an instrument it had best be one intended for serious musicians. I chose electric guitar. He wished I'd stayed with the sax after that."

For longer than either of them realized, House shared his knowledge of the tenor sax with Greg. Before they retired for the night, the boy was well on his way to catching up with the man. House realized that a student horn wasn't going to be enough for his son for very long and once again House was glad that all the wine, women and partying that he alluded to was just talk. He had all the funds necessary to buy for his son whatever he needed for quite some time.

GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH

That night, Wilson was in bed thinking about the conversation that he'd had earlier in the day with House. It wasn't the first time that House mentioned a son. The first time was not long after House had started spending more time at his own place, again. Was there any possibility that could be the case? Could House actually be hiding a son rather than a girlfriend at his home? It didn't seem likely, but then allowing anyone to live there while House lived with Wilson was completely out of character. House like his privacy more than anyone Wilson had ever known. The responses to the questions that Wilson asked were well thought out, not off the top of House's head. It began to dawn on Wilson that maybe House had been telling the truth all along. Indeed, House had a son that he was hiding from the rest of the world. Wilson chuckled to himself. No, it just couldn't be true. House probably couldn't even admit to himself that he had a son. There would be no way that House could acknowledge to Wilson the existence of a son. But then that didn't mean that one didn't exist…right?

Of course, House wouldn't hide a woman. He would take her out and show her off. Especially, if it had the added bonus of making certain people jealous! Cuddy liked House, maybe even loved him. She would be jealous. She wouldn't date House, she was even dating Lucas, but if House had another woman on his arm, Cuddy would certainly take notice. Cuddy claimed that she didn't like House that way, but she did and she was the only one that didn't see it. House had loved Cuddy for years and was too frightened, too aggressive, or his advances were too ill-timed for them to make any headway. This was probably a good thing, though. House would be good for Cuddy; she needed to lighten up and House would do that for her. On the other hand Wilson wasn't so sure that Cuddy would be good for House. She was demanding and liked things the way she liked them. She didn't really buy into compromise and House was all about compromise. He liked the fight as much as the results it bought….

"Wait! How I did go from House having a son, to Cuddy and House to House needing to win his battles?" Wilson said aloud. "I need to sleep." With that, Wilson rolled over and gave himself over to calming thoughts….until he remembered that House had said that he would hide a son from him because he would interfere….House had a son….If Wilson could figure out just who this son was and enough about him, he could have all kinds of fun with that kind of information! That is if House even had a son, which he probably didn't….or did he?


	19. Chapter 19

Like Father Like Son

Chapter 19

Wilson's alarm went off way too soon the next morning….until he remembered that he had the secret of all secrets when it came to House. The news that he, House, actually had a son was as stunning to Wilson as if the child had been his. House would need help with the little tike! Where was he keeping him? With his mother, he presumed. Maybe checking out the PPTH daycare just might give Wilson a glimpse of the child. Who would the mother be, though? Did Wilson know her? No, the child must be older; not a tike at all. He was possibly a young adult or a teen. That would make things easier on House. Although House didn't seem to mind little kids, an older child would be more to House's liking….as if he had a choice.

Wilson had two goals for the day. The first was to check House's room for clues. More and more frequently, House had been spending the night at his own place. Wilson decided a trip to House's condo was in order, as well. The second goal was to determine how best to use this information. House was expert at using information for the greatest impact. It was only fair that Wilson got to use this information to the same extent.

After showering, shaving, and dressing, Wilson ambled out to the kitchen to fix his breakfast. He always made enough for House, too, because nothing roused him faster than the scent of food cooking. Sure enough, House appeared.

"Jimmy-boy, the aroma beckons me to the kitchen. Bestow on me a breakfast fit for a king."

"Get your own breakfast, House!" replied Jimmy as he placed a mug of steaming coffee and the sugar bowl in front of his friend. "We both know that you are a better cook than I will ever be."

"Ah, but you know how I struggle in the morning." House put on a sad, pained face and rubbed his leg for emphasis.

Wilson placed an omelet filled with cheese, tomato, onion, green pepper and bacon in front of House.

"I'm feelin' the love, Jimmy! I knew there was no way that you would neglect your bestie!"

"Should I box up another one? Just in case you get hungry later… or feel the need to bring breakfast to someone else should the opportunity arise?"

"Sure, I'll throw it into the middle of the table and let the team fight over it. They've been looking a little thin." House grinned giving no indication to Wilson that his offspring might be going hungry. "Do you want me to let you know when the show starts? I'll even make Thirteen wear a wet t-shirt. You do have clean t-shirts in your dresser, right? Mine aren't meant for that kind of wear.

Wilson let House go on. He knew he wasn't going to get any helpful information from him when he was in this sort of mood.

GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH

As House was riding to his place, he considered the conversation that he'd just had with his best friend. Wilson's comment didn't go unnoticed by House. Nor did House think for a minute that Wilson was fixing the extra omelet for him or the team or anyone else. Wilson was looking for House to confirm that he had a son. He wasn't ready for that yet even though he knew it was best for Greg. They'd agreed to "come out" and it was time. Five short weeks had passed since House met Greg and House had never been happier. He knew he couldn't hide Greg forever, but he sure wished he could. He wasn't ready to share. House parked his bike and grabbed the omelet. Heading up the steps to apartment to see his son made him the happiest man alive. He couldn't even begin to process that knowledge without tears coming to his eyes.

Greg was making a finger football when House walked through the door. The fridge was bare again and keeping his hands busy and mind occupied was his way of staving off hunger until his dad arrived.

"Feed me!" Greg didn't mince words when his stomach was involved.

"Good Morning, young House!" as he spoke, House tossed the container holding the omelet onto the table. "Wilson is onto us. He made this for you. I guess my words finally soaked into his radiation riddled mind."

"What did he say?" Greg was all ears and anxious to know if Wilson had made the connection between him and Intern Eddie.

"He didn't say a thing, but he made the extra omelet and that said all that was needed. I didn't deny or confirm your existence. I'm going to let him think what he wants until you and I figure out how we want to introduce you.

Greg was too busy eating the egg to respond, glad that he had a reason to keep silent. This was one of those days when he interned with Wilson while House had clinic. In another week or two it would be House in charge and he didn't even know that Greg worked there yet. He just had to make it through today without getting caught by House. The rest would have to wait until later. He needed to get to the hospital and that required his dad to be out of the way. Once the egg was gone, he fiddled with his finger football while House made annoying small talk and Greg answered distractedly. Finally, Greg decided that he needed his dad to refocus.

"Dad, don't you have a patient to cure?" It was lame, but the best he could do for that early in the morning.

"No. I've got clinic all morning. Eddie, my soon to be intern is in today so I'm banished to the dungeon. I'm putting off going in to the very last second," House stated.

"What does your boss do to you when you're late?"

"I get more clinic hours."

"Which you hate."

"Tell me," an exasperated House asked, "who's the parent here?"

Greg stared at his dad wondering if he'd crossed a line he shouldn't have crossed.

"I'm going to work." House grabbed his helmet and left without another word. He knew when to make himself scarce. He just didn't know why Greg was so anxious to be rid of him.

Greg needed to scramble to get to the hospital on time and he knew it wasn't going to happen. He called a cab and finished getting ready as he waited. This game he was playing needed to end and it had to be soon.

GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH

House arrived at work and went straight to the clinic. As he passed her office, Cuddy saw him enter and knew by his stride that something was off. House wasn't a happy camper and, if she didn't act soon, no one in clinic was going to be happy either.

"House, need you." Cuddy called from her office door.

House rolled his eyes and hoped against hope that she would give him a reason to yell.

"Just go to your office." Cuddy couldn't believe the words she heard coming from her own mouth. "You hurt, or you're angry, or….House, I know something isn't right. Just go to your office and do whatever it is you do to work things through. I don't need you terrorizing the clinic."

"Just like that."

"Yes, just like that."

"Is there an inspection? Maybe a high profile official or a donor is taking a tour? Why are you getting rid of me, too?" House didn't understand Cuddy's act of kindness any better than she did and it made him want to figure it out. "You aren't getting rid of me that easy, Cuddy."

"Just go, House, please. Don't analyze this. I saw you limping more, I guess. You looked preoccupied and unhappy. I thought you might need some time and I decided to give it to you. Can't I just be nice?"

"Not usually without an ulterior motive."

"Would you feel better if I made one up?"

House thought about it and responded by heading to his office. If Cuddy had forgotten why he was banished to the clinic, then he wasn't going to remind her. House had an intern to torture and he was going to enjoy it!

GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH

Greg slipped into the hospital just shortly after House. Fortunately, a cab had been immediately available and Greg was just a few minutes late. After checking Wilson's office and finding it locked, he went to the conference room to wait and catch up with the team.

"Hey, Eddie!" greeted the team in unison.

"Hi guys! Have you seen Wilson?"

"Not yet, but he doesn't usually check in unless he wants to talk to House," answered Chase. "Come sit."

Greg sat with his back to the glass wall. "Thanks!" He took out his finger football and fiddled with it until Taub decided to engage him in a game.

"I haven't seen one of these since…."

"…last week when House was making one," Foreman interrupted Taub. Foreman caught the football in his cupped hands when Taub flipped it to him and, in turn, flicked it back to Greg."

As House limped by the conference room on the way to his office, he noticed that "Intern Eddie" was deep into a game of finger football with his team…using a football that House was certain that he'd seen less than an hour ago. A smile appeared on House's face and suddenly things didn't look so bleak anymore. He continued on past his office door and returned to the clinic. He needed to think on what he had just seen and contemplate his next move. A celebratory nap was definitely in order!


	20. Chapter 20

**I don't own House or any part of the show. Rats!**

_**Thanks for the friendly, lovely reviews! They really mean a lot to me. This chapter is shorter than they have been, but I couldn't resist the urge to end it where I did!**_

Like Father Like Son

Chapter 20

House had almost made it to the clinic when he realized that the clinic was the last place he wanted to be. He wanted to talk to Wilson. He wasn't going to tell him about Greg, he just wanted to intimate that maybe he had a secret worth telling. The elevator took forever returning to the first floor and so House had to wait. That was fine. House wasn't really in a hurry. After a moment of introspection, House was surprised to realize that he wasn't very surprised to find Greg in the conference room. Had he known, deep down that his son was "Intern Eddie"? No. If there had been any clues to the deception House had never picked up on them. Then why wasn't he surprised?

The elevator doors finally opened and House stepped in and pushed the button to his floor.

He wasn't surprised because what Greg did was exactly the way he would expect a son of his to behave. Why say "Dad, I want you to give me a job at PPTH" when deception could be involved? House smiled. Maybe Greg wasn't all goodness and light. He knew that he shouldn't feel the way that he did, but he was relieved that his son was capable of deception. He found it comforting, somehow.

Ten minutes after discovering Greg in the conference room, House walked into Wilson's office to find him there still fingering the triangle of paper as he spoke with the oncologist. Stunned at his friend's arrival, Wilson stood and pointed to Greg.

"Uh…House….I want you to meet my intern, Greg Dubois. He'll be your intern soon so try to make a good first impression."

Greg stood and held out his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Dr. House."

"House." He clarified as Greg's hand continued to hang in the air unshaken. "So, I finally get to meet the famous 'Intern Eddie.'"

"I've heard a lot about you, too, sir. Most of it hasn't been very good. I think Dr. Wilson and your team was planning to keep me hidden for as long as possible."

"I understand. I heard you made them all look bad. It isn't difficult to do. I do it all the time."

Throughout this interaction, Greg and House just stared, as though sizing each other up. Then silence reigned for awhile and finally Wilson could take it no more.

"Speaking of the team, I think I hear them calling." Wilson decided that it was time to rescue Greg. He didn't know where the conversation was headed and he felt responsible for the boy. He was sure that whoever took care of him would want Greg home in one piece that evening.

Greg looked at Wilson and then back to his dad. He smirked a very House-like smirk that only his dad could see. House returned the smirk with an eyebrow lift that said to Greg "We'll talk."

Greg's stomach flipped and as it did, House smiled reassuringly, which frightened Wilson into thinking about spiders and flies.

"House, aren't you supposed to be in the clinic today?" Wilson's words reminded House that, indeed, that was where he was supposed to be.

"Yes, and aren't you suppose to be curing the incurable?" House started to leave, and then rocked back on his heels as he changed his mind. "You know, I really could use some help in the clinic today…."

Wilson sat down hard in his chair and scrubbed his face with his hands. He needed to save Greg. Now. "I don't think Greg's ready for that. I'm sure that one of the team would be more than happy to help out."

"Only the best and the brightest will work and according to everything that I've been hearing about this young _doctor_, he's the bestest and the brightest-est to come along in quite awhile!"

House's words dripped with sarcasm and Wilson hoped that Greg wasn't about to fall into the trap of trying to prove himself. Teenagers sometimes felt ready to take on the world before they were ready and there was no way that Greg was ready to deal with House. No one was ever ready to deal with House.

Greg was unsure of how to handle the situation. Wilson was clearly terrified that House would eat Greg alive given the opportunity and he was pretty sure that his dad was playing on those fears. So, did he act terrified and plead with Wilson not to be thrown to the wolves, or did he act overly confident and appear to be a lamb led to the slaughter? Overall, either method was going to cause Wilson to go apoplectic so Greg's real concern was which response his dad would prefer. He decided to go with fear.

"Uh….Dr. House….I'm supposed to stay with Dr. Wilson for another week or so, then your team is going to work with me." Greg worked just the slighted hint of a tremble into his voice.

"But why work with the apprentices when you could work with the Master; and why wait? Even you must know that this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I get hundreds of applications every year from people just _dying _to be my minion and here you are given the opportunity without lifting so much as your pinkie finger and you are hesitating?"

"It's the dying that I'm worried about…."

Greg looked pleadingly at Wilson. He wondered if he could muster a tear and suddenly had to fight the urge to laugh. Wilson looked helpless to stop the inevitable and the conflict washing over his features was priceless. Wilson knew that what House had just said was true. Greg would be a fool to pass up the chance. Greg would also probably never become a doctor once House was finished with him.

"Greg, I think you should…."

"Wilson, let the boy decide for himself. If he's as good as everyone says he is he is certainly capable of making a simple, obvious decision such as this."


	21. Chapter 21

**I don't own House. Darn!**

_**Thanks for the wonderful reviews. I really, really appreciate them! I'm on a roll so you get a new post!**_

Like Father Like Son

Chapter 21

Greg was trying to gauge his father's mood as they strode down the halls of PPTH together. He may have had a bum leg but it didn't slow House down a bit and Greg had to lengthen his stride to keep up. The couple of times he tried to speak, Greg was hushed with a look from his dad. He was beginning to think that he was in trouble. He deserved it if that was the case. The secret had been between them for awhile now and Greg figured the longer he kept it the worse it would be when his dad found out. People passed them in the hall and averted their gaze. Was it because they knew Greg was a dead man walking or because they feared House and avoided confrontation with him at all costs? With every step Greg worried more. He prayed that the elevator would be filled with people so that whatever his dad had to tell him had to wait a little longer. Once they got to the clinic the jig was up and the son would know exactly what was on his father's mind.

The elevator doors opened and much to Greg's relief the car was nearly full. House wouldn't ream his son publicly…Greg hoped. The elevator ride wasn't going to last forever though and so Greg was preparing a speech for his dad. House hadn't looked mad in Wilson's office, but the silence now left Greg bewildered and fearful. The men rode the elevator car to the main floor and were greeted by Cuddy as they exited.

"House, I was just going to your office to talk to you. Follow me." House made like he was headed to the clinic as he texted something on his phone. Greg soon received the text:

Don't make eye contact. You'll turn to stone.

Just as Cuddy ordered, "House, you too," Greg giggled at his dad's text making it look disrespectful to onlookers.

"Uh, I'm sorry; I didn't mean….I didn't…."

House and Cuddy both looked at Greg. Cuddy looked astonished and House looked amused.

"I bet you wish you were brave enough to laugh in the face of danger, don't you Cuddy?" House commented.

"We'll talk in my office."

House texted:

I'll keep you around. For once, I'm not the one in trouble.

Greg read the text but didn't respond.

As they arrived in Cuddy's office, she motioned for them to sit in the chairs in front of her desk, so House stretched out on her couch.

"House…."

"Alright, I'll move my feet so that Eddie can sit." House moved his feet off the couch, but replaced them just as Greg was beginning to sit next to him.

Another text:

Distance will work to our benefit. Stay away. Maybe stay scared.

Quickly, the text was read and Greg pocketed his phone to indicate to House that he was done reading his texts, but not before Cuddy saw him.

"You need to keep your cell in your pocket, Mr. Dubois, when you are on duty here."

"I'm sorry Dr, Cuddy. I needed to look at my father's text. He was sending me some advice."

House smirked realizing that Cuddy didn't have a clue. She continued on to the matters at hand as the men made swift and amused eye contact.

"I see that the two of you have met. That's good. House, you will be in charge of Greg for the six weeks. Greg, I won't see any more disrespect from you regarding House. He is everything a doctor shouldn't be and yet he has the highest cure rate in this hospital. He shouldn't demand respect, but he has certainly earned it. There isn't a doctor here that would want a different doctor to diagnose him if his life were on the line. For all his flaws, House gets results. Learn from him and know that you are getting the best training right now that you will ever get. If you play your cards right, when the time comes House will hire you as a fellow.

Throughout the entire speech, Cuddy, her back turned to House was unaware of House mimicking her as she spoke. She'd seen Greg's face turn more deeply purple, though. House's final eye-roll finished Greg and he had to swallow his hysteria in coughing and choking. Realizing that House was, quite literally, behind this, she turned on him.

"House are you ever going to grow up? I'm trying to talk to this young man about respecting you and then you pull this sh—stuff! Can I trust you to teach Greg something worthwhile or should I just assign him to Chase or Foreman instead?"

A small voice from behind Cuddy said, "What about Thirteen?" Realizing that he had spoken without thinking, Greg continued. "She has really been helpful to me. She showed me how to use some of the lab equipment and allowed me to make the diagnosis on Jewell. I've learned a lot from her already."

Cuddy stared at Greg, then back at House. "You have him diagnosing patients already? Where was Wilson while all of this was going on? You're supposed to have been working with him."

House rolled his eyes at Cuddy. "I'll use nice short words so that you can follow me, here."

Cuddy was wondering how all of this could have gone so terribly wrong, so she didn't bother to respond to House's comment.

"I found a patent in the clinic that needed Wilson's special caring touch. I knew she wasn't a cancer patient and figured that Wilson would like a change of pace. (Don't faint, Cuddy, I can occasionally be nice.) Wilson came to the team to help with a diagnosis when the usual treatments for 'just being a little under the weather' weren't working. It gave Wilson the chance to introduce Eddie, here, to the team," House gestured widely toward Greg. "And it gave him the opportunity to watch a DDX in progress. It turns out the kid takes after …."

Greg raised his eyebrows curious to see if his dad was really going to walk into that blunder like a tall man into a moving airplane propeller.

"…the smart side of his family and he figured it out before the rest of my team did. He never saw me although apparently he was in the conference room a number of times when I was on conference calls with them." Looking directly at Greg, House continued. "He was very quiet during those calls. I don't recall hearing from him at all." As House was speaking, the last statement, his words had become slower and more measured as he realized just how long this had been going on. Oh, his boy was good!

House stood suddenly, and grabbed his cane.

"Cuddy this has been nice. We'll need to do it again sometime."

"Eddie, we have clinic patients to see. Come."

Wordlessly, Greg followed his dad from her office as Cuddy looked on. The Dean had completely forgotten why it was she had called them there in the first place.

House and Greg entered Exam Room 1. File in hand, House looked at the patient in question and smirked.

"This case is so easy that even a fourteen year old could figure it out!"

House handed the file to Greg.

"I….uh….."

Crap. Greg was certain that he was going to throw up. How was he expected to do a doctor's job when he wasn't a doctor? He opened the file. That was a good start anyway. Oozing rash. Terrific.

"Let's take a look at your rash"

House was playing with a pair of exam gloves, blowing them up like balloons and causing them to make rude noises. Greg understood and grabbed a pair of his own from the box.

The man rolled up his sleeves and, indeed, the rash was covering the man's arms. The man pointed to his crotch.

"I have it down there, too; do you need to see that?"

House snorted.

"What were you doing before you got the rash?" Greg looked to his dad for support. He was playing his Gameboy like the professional he was. Greg was going to die. At least he hoped so.

"I was pulling woodvine from the side of my house."

"How many leaves?"

"Three….Five?"

"Don't look at me; I wasn't there."

"Fine. Somewhere between three and five."

"I'm glad were able to narrow that down" Greg remarked sarcastically. You have poison ivy."

The man looked down at his crotch.

"Yes, there, too, if you didn't wear gloves as you were pulling down the vines. Let me go fine a regular doctor and he can write you a prescription for something to ease the itching and dry the rash. Next time wear gloves."

House left his game just long enough to hand the patient his prescription.

"Is that guy a real doctor? Can he do that? Write prescriptions, I mean?"

"I think so. That's what he tells me, anyway. I kinda have to trust him since we're related."

"He's your dad?"

"No, my creepy uncle; it's my turn to watch him today."

House grew suddenly sober. "Son…."

"Oh, alright! He's my dad."

"No way the two of you are related!" The man left without being dismissed.

"He didn't even thank us!" the House men said in unison.

Now that the room was cleared it was time for them to talk.


	22. Chapter 22

The usual "I don't own House disclaimer goes here!

_**Thanks for the lovely reviews and insights! This chapter was bound to happen at some point, so here it goes!**_

**Like Father, Like Son**

**Chapter 22**

After the patient had gone, House meticulously disinfected the exam table, grabbed a teen magazine and started to browse its contents.

"Oh! Oh! Here's one that you could use! _10 Clues That a Guy Really Likes You. _Well you aren't really looking for a guy, but I'm sure that there's something in this that you can glean for future reference! Number 10 – see they're saving the best for last. You can always tell."

"Dad"

"10: You see your name written on their arm. 9: You keep running into him even though you know that his classes aren't anywhere near yours. 8: (Oh you can really use this one!) He waits until all the tables are full so that he has to ask you to make room for him at yours. (See, now that might come in handy!)

"Paging Greg House!"

"7-"

Greg ripped the magazine from his father's grasp and House looked up at his son. "I guess it was pretty lame but I would like to know what number one was. Eight should have been ranked higher, don't you think?"

"I don't care!"

"But your love life!"

"I'm perfectly happy with my love life just the way it is!"

"You have a love life? Now I really know that I'm out of the loop! Son, we need to talk more!"

"Just shut up!"

House sat up and stared dumbly at Greg.

"Are you ever going to act like a dad? You're a great best friend but you really suck as a father!" Greg's face was red with fury. "You should be so pissed at me right now. For five weeks I've been doing stuff without your knowledge. I've told you that I was going to be at the music store when I was here. I've gotten to know Wilson, Dr. Cuddy, and your team right under your nose and you're talking about a damned magazine article!"

House started to say something, but Greg cut him off.

"Do you realize that I've worried since the day I started here what you were going to do to me when you found out? If my real family was alive it sure wouldn't have gone this far. My grandma would have asked me what I did with my day and I would have told her what I wanted to tell her, then she would have gotten that look that said 'Spill it now!' and I would have told her every second of my day. Then she would have made me think about what could have happened and how she would feel when she thought I was safe doing one thing, but found out that I was really doing something else."

"It's good that you don't have to hear that crap anymore, huh?" House commented softly.

"No, it's not good! That guy with the poison ivy that we just treated will be back if his infection gets worse. He might come in yelling that you were playing a game and let some damn kid treat him. Who's responsible for that kid, Dad? YOU! You're all worried about how Wilson is going to react to your new-found parenthood, but you aren't going to be giving him any reason to believe that you've stepped up!"

"I've given you everything that you've needed."

"No, you've given me everything that I've WANTED. I NEED your time and your advice and your boundaries. When we first met and you gave me your charge card and your money and sent me off to get bikes and a cell phone, I thought it was so cool. Do you know how long it took me to change my mind?

House shook his head.

I wasn't even to the cell store yet. I'd never bought anything bigger than a DVD by myself before coming to you. My family was always there making sure that I'd thought things through and instructing me on what to look for, good and bad. You need to tell me to get a haircut; that my clothes need washing and your shirts and ties don't fit me! I NEED MY DAD!

Cuddy opened the door and stuck her head in.

"Is there a problem in here?" Clearly there was. Her new intern had been reduced to tears by House and she would need to deal with the fallout. Instead she heard….

"No Ma'am, I was just venting and Dr. House got an earful. I'll leave now, if that's okay." Without waiting for a response, Greg brushed past Cuddy and left.

House scrubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands before he spoke to Cuddy. "Do you have a minute? Can we go to your office and just talk?

This was a House that Cuddy had rarely, if ever, seen. He was a mature adult. There was no humor, sarcasm, or play evident in his demeanor. The mask was gone.

"Of course, House." Cuddy headed to her office followed by a silent House. Once they sat down, Cuddy continued to carefully observe her most difficult doctor. She could see the wheels turning behind his eyes. Whatever it was he was trying to find the words for seemed to be just out of reach. If Cuddy were able, she would have spoken the words for him just to help him get beyond this point. Once she heard the question, she was almost too stunned to answer.

"How do you know the difference between what Rachel needs and what she wants?"

Two things stood out. House called Rachel by name and he was posing this as a serious question. There was no hint that mockery would follow on the heels of her response.

"I don't know. She's still so young. She eats, she sleeps, and she poops. She's using a few more words and she's expressing more opinions in her own way. What is this about?"

"So how do you know when to tell her 'no' and which battles to pick?"

"I tell her 'no' when she's in danger and when it just isn't the right time for whatever she wants. As for the battles, it depends on how tired I am, some days, I'm willing to do whatever she wants because we can and some days we do whatever she wants just because I'm too tired to fight her."

"What about Lucas? Is he a good dad?"

"He gets to play with her more than I do, although sometimes he'll take over with the menial stuff so that Rachel and I can play. We don't look at it as Lucas being her dad, though…at least I don't. How could this possibly be helping you?"

"Maybe I just need to go to University Book Store and get the manual for this."

Cuddy laughed out loud! "THE manual for child rearing; there isn't just one! House, there are aisles and aisles of books by people with opinions on how to raise kids! Not any single book has the answer for any single child."

"So, how do I match the right book with the right kid?"

"You don't. You take what you learned from your parents, both the good and the bad stuff, and add your experiences, some intuition and just do the best you can. Some things work and some things don't. Try it and let it go. No parent is perfect and no kid is going to be easy all the time. You butt heads, and then say I love you and keep moving forward."

"How long did it take you to get to this point? You really seem to have it together."

Again Cuddy laughed. "I have it together now, because I'm at work. When I get home, Rachel is going to want to eat cookies before dinner and I'm going to tell her 'no'. She's going to say 'need them', and then I'm going to say 'you will not die without them, you don't need them'. We have had this same conversation since Lucas taught her to say 'need them' three weeks ago. I'm not sure if either of them is going to be safe if we have the same conversation tonight. We will argue over bath or no bath, when it is time to get out of the tub and how many books we will look at before I stick her in her crib. The kid has, like, 100 words, but she totally knows how to get her point across!"

"You need something if you will die without it…. Greg said something along those lines to me when he was yelling at me a bit ago. I guess I know that. Alright, a kid needs food, clothing, shelter, and you could argue for education, even."

"Love, too," Cuddy added. "Kids in orphanages can have all the essentials provided to them but if you leave out love they demonstrate autistic tendencies after awhile."

"I think that you are oversimplifying those studies, but I get the point."

"He must have done a real number on you today."

"Who?"

"Greg Dubois. Should I let him go? After what I saw today, he clearly has authority issues."

"No, that would be me, remember?" House shook his head trying to dispel Greg's words echoing in his mind. "I'll handle it. He's fine. How much did you hear, anyway?"

"The door muffled all his words, so I didn't really hear anything."

"Good to know. Thanks Cuddy."

House left Cuddy's office leaning heavily on his cane. Cuddy's original thought had been that House would be too hard on Greg, but now she suspected that maybe it would be the other way around. Whatever the young intern had been saying sure did a number on House, Cuddy thought as she tidied her desk.


	23. Chapter 23

Disclaimer: I don't own House, but you can't kill my love!

_**Thank you so much for all of your reviews! They mean so much to me!**_

_**I hope you find this amusing! These step by step reveals to each character have to be made so carefully. I'm not nearly as smart as House, Greg or any of the other characters in this story and so I need to fake it and at least pretend to be as smart as they are! **_

Like Father, Like Son

Chapter 23

After the argument where Greg yelled and House listened and then House had his chat with Cuddy, the doctor decided to put some space between himself and Greg. He ordered dinner for Greg and had it delivered every night as he waited on the sidewalk outside. He was glad that the familiar delivery boys were willing to tell him that Greg looked alright and that he received the food willingly. Not long after the food had been delivered and Greg had taken the time to eat, the strains of sad piano music or angry electric guitar would reach House's ears. The doctor would head home to Wilson who would carefully watch House for any signs of relapse or mental decay. House hated it.

GHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG

Greg knew that his father was around even though he wasn't coming in. House had his favorite foods delivered for supper and waited while the delivery men grilled him about his day so they could report back. After eating, Greg would choose an instrument and crank up the volume so that House was sure to hear that Greg was doing just fine without him – even if he wasn't. Some of the things that Greg had said to House weren't really true and at the time and Greg had regretted saying them as soon as they were out of his mouth, yet now it seemed like the words were true because his dad wasn't there. Greg had intended to apologize just as soon as his dad got home, but he never came. Instead, he stayed outside and waited…..for what?

Only three days had passed and it seemed like an eternity to both of the House men.

GHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG

Wilson knew that something was very wrong with House. After weeks of never being home, he'd been home in the evenings for three days straight. At PPTH, Wilson was pretty positive that Cuddy had never gotten so much work out of her most difficult employee. It was clear that whatever was eating at House was bigger than any demon he'd ever tackled. There was just no other way to explain the behavior of 3Wilson's closest friend and it frightened him. He was pretty sure that it had something to do with House's mystery son, but Wilson hadn't figured it out to his own satisfaction, yet. He knew he had to intervene, because that was 5Wilson's role in their relationship – it was what he did….at least according to 6Wilson's interpretation of things. House wouldn't necessarily have seen it the same way….as a matter of fact he didn't and he resented that Wilson did – especially at times like this.

GHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG

Wilson finally decided that the mystery mother of the mystery son had figured out that House wasn't father material. As a result she'd informed House that he wasn't welcome in his son's life. Although House had never been interested in having a kid, he'd bonded with this one and now Wilson was left to pick up the pieces of a shattered House. On the positive side, House hadn't become destructive to himself this time around. House was staying sober and sane and Wilson was bound and determined to keep him that way. He needed a plan and that plan involved 1Wilson's other problem.

About the same time that House had started coming home at night; Wilson had received a very unsettling call from Greg informing him that the young man wouldn't be continuing his internship. Thinking back, Wilson remembered that the last time he'd seen the boy he was leaving his office being led by House. It was clear to Wilson exactly what had happened. House had intimidated Greg in the same way that he tried to intimidate his team. The inexperienced "Intern Eddie" had buckled under the pressure and rather than facing House again, he had decided not to return to PPTH.

It was obvious to Wilson that House needed to make things right with Greg and through proving that he could be a kinder, gentler House possibly convince the mother of his son that he was better father material that she had originally thought. Wilson was sure his plan would work once all parties involved saw reason. The problem was getting Greg and House in the same room at the same time and then making sure House said all the right things to calm Greg's fears. Wilson didn't figure that House would mean any of the things he said to the boy, but then everybody lies. The thing was House seemed to be at his most honest with children. Maybe that was going to be a problem. Also, once things were cleared up between Greg and the intern, how was the mother of House's son going to even know that House had made these great strides and that he was, indeed, father material?

With a sigh, Wilson realized that he would need to intervene on House's behalf once again. Certainly, if Wilson was able to help House smooth things over with Greg, he would let his best friend know all the information necessary to communicate such growth to the mother of his child. In a way, this was a job that Wilson was going to relish! To see a child in House's arms that would love him unconditionally would bring Wilson untold joy. Everyone needed unconditional love, but House seemed to need it more that most and got less of it than anyone Wilson had ever known. If this worked, it might be the best thing that Wilson had ever done for House and House would be forever grateful to him. A deep sense of satisfaction filled Wilson as he developed his plan and then saw it come to fruition in his imagination.

"Come to dinner tonight, Greg, I miss seeing you and I want to talk to you about your decision to leave PPTH." 5Wilson's call to Greg was the first step in his Grand Plan.

"I don't think so, Dr. Wilson. Dr. House…."

"You don't need to worry about that, tonight. I invited you over because I know that House will be gone for the night. He has a standing appointment and he never misses it."

Greg assumed that it was House's appointment with Dr. Nolan and took Wilson at his word. "Alright," Greg sighed. He was lonely. He hadn't been out for going on four days and House's condo was closing in on him rapidly. If House was going to see Nolan, then there wouldn't be any food arriving at 5:30 anyway. "I'll be there."

Wilson confirmed his address and assured Greg that the loft was just off the bus line and would be easy to locate. He had no way of knowing that Greg had visited the loft before. "I'll see you at 6:00, Greg."

GHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG

That evening, House was surprised to find the delivery boy return to House still carrying the food. House started to go in, but the thought of finding Greg's things absent from the apartment stopped him in his tracks.

House shoved the door key at the delivery boy and ordered, "Go see if he's in there and then come right out. Don't touch the piano."

The delivery boy responded unquestioningly. When House spoke like that there was no option.

"He isn't there, but everything looks like it should. The kid didn't pack up and leave, either, if that's what you're worried about. He probably just got cabin fever and went to a movie or something."

"Thanks. You're probably right." House tipped the delivery boy hugely, dumped the food in a nearby trashcan and headed for Wilson's place. It would never be home.

GHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHGHG

Greg entered the loft tentatively after being greeted by Wilson. The place felt really big without House's presence to fill it. The organ was in the corner and Greg vividly remembered the day he'd been there with his dad. He wanted to leave. Now!

"Make yourself at home. Can I get you a drink?"

"No, thanks, I don't think that this was such a good idea after all. I'm going to just head home."

"Wait, Greg! Look, dinner is about on table. I just need to serve it up." Where the hell was House! He hadn't been this late all week, so why now? "You don't want all of my efforts to go to waste, do you?"

It smelled like lasagna and Greg couldn't remember when he'd had any that tasted as good as that smelled.

"House and I were taking a cooking class together and he really had the knack. He understands the chemical reactions that make the flavors work together and uses that knowledge to make the most amazing creations! I'm stuck at 'Bake at 375º for an hour'!" Wilson laughed. "I guess he lost interest when he figured it all out, because he hasn't been back to the class in quite awhile."

Greg wondered why they always had take-out or delivery if House was such a great cook. Maybe he just hadn't been worth the effort. "House must be really busy with patients all the time. How did he find time to take a class?"

"House had been….ill and was just out of the hospital. Foreman was running the team, but House was there to consult until he got his medical license reinstated. He had a lot of time on his hands."

Greg knew about Mayfield and all of that. He appreciated that Wilson cared enough to keep House's confidence. "Is House's illness something that's going to recur?"

"I hope not, Greg. That was a very difficult time for House and everyone who cares about him. He isn't really what he seems and those that know him for who he really is are very devoted to him. He puts his team through hell on a daily basis, and they all complain, but I don't think that any of them could leave him if he really needed them." Wilson hoped that his words were getting through to Greg and that he would be willing to give House another chance.

Just then, the door slammed and House entered. Greg spun around in time to see House's look of shock as he found his son chatting with Wilson.

"House, what a surprise!" lied Wilson. "I was sure this was your night to meet with Nolan. I invited Greg over for some lasagna and to discuss with him why he decided to leave his internship before he had the opportunity to work with you. I think the experience is crucial if he wants to be a doctor someday." Wilson was afraid that if he stopped talking that one, or both, would leave before he got his goals met. That wasn't an option.

"Shut up and give me a beer, Wilson, I'm not going to leave just because Greg is here." Wilson noticed that House called the boy by his name and decided that the plan was already going better than expected. He smiled as he handed House his beer.

House made eye contact with Greg and decided that his son was as much a victim of 8Wilson's devious plot as he was. House shrugged and nodded, trying to let Greg know that, for his part anyway, things were at least okay for the time being.

Greg made his way to the kitchen and found a can of pop in the fridge. He popped the top and sat down at the table more relaxed than Wilson had ever seen him. House sat down next to Greg at the table and bumped his elbow for support. Wilson saw the drink slosh just as he was placing the last of the food on the table and worried.

After making sure everything was there – lasagna, salad, garlic bread, silverware and drinks – Wilson sat down and discovered two identical sets of bright blues eyes staring mischievously at him.


	24. Chapter 24

_Disclaimer - House isn't mine, he's David Shore's. Some people have all the luck!_

_A/N - I'm essentially without internet right now! I WILL find a way to read your reviews though!_

**_ A number of you think that House is pretty OOC in this story, and a way I agree. I think that once he discovered that he had a son to be responsible for that he would try to be a kinder, gentler House and would try not to show his most difficult aspects to Greg for quite a while. I'm not sure that House has gotten his brain around the kind of responsibilities that he's taken on yet. He shouldn't have been leaving Greg alone, but he also believes that Greg is kinda perfect right now...although being yelled at about being an irresponsible parent by his own kid should be an eye-opener to House. House is also being exceedingly lenient because his own dad was exceedingly strict. Now that it's House's turn to mentor Greg at the hospital, it will be interesting to see how House goes about reconciling these two distinct personalities (Dad House v Dr. House) in the presence of his son._**

**_To review, Wilson has just figured out that House and Greg are father and son. Let the games begin!_**

**Like Father, Like Son**

**Chapter 24**

Wilson, this is Greg, the hooker that I was telling you about.

"Hi, Wilson!" said Greg in the sexist voice the fourteen year old could master. "House has told me sooooo much about you!"

Wilson buried his head in his hands and just sighed. "There really are two of you. I'm….I'm…."

"Stunned?"

"Speechless?"

"Stymied?"

"Astounded?"

"Amazed?"

"Overcome?"

"Overwrought?"

"Flabbergasted?"

"Flummoxed?"

It didn't matter who was saying what. Wilson was still trying to catch up with what he was seeing. Two generations of House under the same roof was just about more than James Wilson could take at the moment. House and Greg's mischievous faces watched Wilson with anticipation for his next comment.

"Funny. Both of you are just hilarious." Wilson deadpanned. "So how long did you two intend to string me along?"

House looked at his friend wide-eyed and feigning shock. "String you along? I told you from the start that Greg had turned up and you decided that it was more likely that I was keeping a hooker instead! Since I had you on speakerphone, Greg caught the whole conversation."

"Well, I guess that wasn't one of my finer moments, was it?" Wilson colored, embarrassed that he'd had so little faith in House in Greg's presence. "What about hiding Greg right under my nose at the hospital?"

House looked at Greg as he replied. "That was all Greg. You'll have to ask him about that one. I'd sort of like to know that, too."

"I was bored?" Greg's answer explained all to House but fell short for Wilson.

"What do you mean **_you were bored_**? Boys that are bored go out and buy a new video game; they don't go get internships at hospitals!" Wilson sounded more like a dad to Greg's ears that House ever had and he decided that House really did have a reason to put off bringing his best friend into their relationship.

Greg looked to House for support, but didn't expect the answer that he received.

"I'm proud of you. That was pretty gutsy. I don't think I would have had that kind of nerve when I was your age." House thought he knew the answer to his next question, but he asked anyway. "So why leave me out of the plan?"

"I didn't want to get hired just because I was your son. I didn't want to be treated differently by everyone. I wanted to see the people that you were talking about without them feeling like they needed to watch what they were saying all the time."

"Given House's reputation around the hospital, that was a pretty smart thing to do." House and Greg, both glared at Wilson for his input.

"I didn't want you to tell me 'no', either."

House nodded his understanding and served himself and Greg some lasagna. "Are you going to eat any of this, Wilson, or are you just going to keep gawping at us?"

Wilson passed House his plate and sighed.

Turning to House, Greg said, "Well, I'm glad you know that I'm there now. I was getting a little crazed going behind your back."

"…thus, the little outburst of the other day," House reflected aloud.

"Yeah, that was brilliant of me, wasn't it? I'm sorry."

"Me too, I'm still feeling my way around this parenthood stuff and I'll try to do a little better about stepping up." House felt compelled to hug Greg, but since Wilson was present, he elbowed him instead and received a nudge back.

Wilson resigned himself to being excluded from the meaning of the present conversation, but it didn't mean that he couldn't find a way to catch up. "So tell me, how did all of this come about?"

House couldn't resist. "Well, Wilson, when a man and a woman…."

Greg interjected, "My mom and dad had a one night stand when he was at a conference in New Orleans and, no, she wasn't a hooker."

"Spoiled sport," House feigned disappointment.

"You were certainly busy making friends on that trip, weren't you, House?" Wilson asked. "That had to be the conference where we met and you bailed me out of jail."

"Cool, Wilson's a convict!"

"No," House replied to his son, "just an idiot. He never did pay back the bail money. As soon as he does that, he's outta my life. I can't stand losers."

"I'll write you a check and then we can count how many times I've bailed you out of jail and how much you owe me," Wilson replied with a smirk.

Greg was beginning to understand how these two men who seemed so different on the surface could be such good friends. As they talked it became apparent that the history between them ran deep. Greg laughed as they told stories on each other and often saw the same incidents in two very different lights. Eventually, Wilson zeroed in on Greg asking him all the questions that he considered essential and House wandered off, bored with information that he already knew.

While Wilson cleared the table and started the dishwasher, Greg moved over to the organ and turned it on. As Wilson heard the notes Greg was randomly tapping out, he quickly intervened.

"Greg, House is pretty possessive about his instrument, I wouldn't mess with that without…."

House had appeared seemingly from nowhere.

"Hey, can you play that thing?" House's words sounded accusingly.

"I play a bit" Greg responded.

"Well, let's hear it, then."

Greg poked out a sorry, one-fingered rendition of Heart and Soul. Wilson cringed knowing that House wasn't going to take kindly to his new toy being messed with.

"You're going to need to do better than that if you want to keep playing my organ. Scoot over." Greg scooted and House played the accompaniment as Greg played the melody slightly better than he had the first time.

"Hands off, young House; let me show you how it's done!" House played the song as it was meant to be played as well as singing the verse.

Greg listened patiently until his dad had finished. "You're okay, for an old guy, I suppose," the boy said, as he bumped House over to the edge of the bench and proceeded to take control of the keyboard.

Wilson held his breath. He figured that House would be patient for only so long before he'd had enough and he wasn't sure that Greg was ready for the fallout. Greg, pretending to pull up his sleeves and loosen up his fingers, didn't help Wilson's nerves at all. Instead of the cacophony that he expected to hear, Wilson was treated to a magnificent blues version of the song.

House smiled and joined Greg on one of the organ's other keyboards. The two Houses forgot all about Wilson and for nearly an hour went from one song to the next trying to outdo each other. It was clear to Wilson that this was a well established game that they played and enjoyed immensely. He'd never seen House so animated or full of joy.

"Do you two have any other secrets that you're keeping from me?"

House smiled as he responded to Wilson's question. "He plays guitar better than I do, too."

"I'll clear out my den tomorrow, while you guys pick out a bed." The comment shocked House and Greg, but Wilson said it with such conviction that they realized he'd been considering it all evening. "Greg can't stay at your place alone forever and it isn't big enough for the two of you, right? Greg has already admitted to being bored during the day and I'm tired of eating alone at night. If this doesn't work, I'll move out or you can find a place of your own."

"I'm doing okay right where I am. I don't mind." Greg tried to be convincing, but a sense of relief had washed over him as Wilson made the suggestion.

"I don't really think we have an option here, Greg." Wilson was sounding very dad-like again and it made Greg uncomfortable knowing that it was exactly what House had been afraid of. "I don't know the legalities of your situation, but I think that you might be considered too young to live alone. I've gotten to know you and I know that you're a very mature young man and that House has been seeing to your needs, but this has to be getting really old for both of you. I'm not your dad and I won't force this on either of you, but please think about it."

Maybe House had been wrong about Wilson, but before he agreed to anything, House was going to make sure. He couldn't stand the idea that one day Greg would be thinking of Wilson as his dad instead of him. It wasn't rational, he knew, but the feeling was there nonetheless.

"Wilson, your offer, it's…nice…but I don't want this if it means that you're thinking that this is your chance to raise the son you never had. You can be Greg's friend, his mentor, his uncle, even, but I'm the only dad he's going to have. I'm going to make mistakes but they're going to be my mistakes." House was acting calm but the edge to his voice bordered on threatening. This wasn't a topic for discussion; he was making his position crystal clear.

"I don't think you're going to screw this up, House, if that's what you're worried about."

"I'm worried that Greg is going to end up with two dads that are diametrically opposed in their parenting styles. (I can't even believe that I'm having this conversation with you!) You're going to try to control everything and I'm not. You're going to want Greg to account for his every movement and to keep his room clean and to eat his veggies. Compared to you, I'm so laid back that it's going to look like I don't care. You're going to tell me to 'step up' every time you think I ought to intervene and then don't. You're not going to be able to help yourself; I know you too well and I don't want that for Greg and I don't want what that's going to do to our friendship." House took a breath, sighing his capitulation. "This is your loft; I'm not going to ask you to move out. Greg can move in for now, and I'll start looking for a place."

"Don't I have a say in this?" Greg had been silently watching the scene, but the thought of his dad and his best friend going their separate ways due to his presence was just too much. "Look, I think that we need to give this a try. Dad, you've told Wilson where you stand and what you're afraid will happen. Let's give it a chance before we go looking for problems that may never occur. I'm not going to get confused; I know who my dad is. I already know to keep my room clean and I do eat my veggies and I'll tell everyone where I'm going when I'm going somewhere. When I was little, my mom and both of my grandparents raised me. I didn't get confused then about who was in charge and neither did they. It just worked. This will work, too, if we don't try to hard and just see how things go. If Wilson starts getting out of hand, Dad, we can drug him or go see a movie"

"…or both!" House relaxed and smiled.

Wilson rolled his eyes and realized that Greg was pretty good at maneuvering around the pitfalls of House's bleak outlook on life.

"House, I promise not to try to take over. Greg is your son and I can respect that. He's a good kid. I think you can handle him on your own." Wilson's sincerity was obvious and House nodded acceptance of his best friend's promise.

"It's ten, just about bedtime, are you going to take our little boy home or should we set him up on the couch?" Wilson teased.


	25. Chapter 25

Disclaimer House and Wilson aren't mine since they belong to David Shore. Greg Jr. is mine and I've grown quite fond of him!

_**Thank you everyone for your patience. It's been way, way too long since I've posted. I hope you enjoy!**_

Like Father, Like Son

Chapter 25

Wilson placed a platter piled high with Macadamia Nut Pancakes on the table in front of his best friend. House was high on their fragrance and excited that Greg was going to get his first taste of them. Greg sat down, still trying to shake off the sleep that seemed to refuse to loose its grasp from him.

"Eat these," encouraged House. "They are the reason that I remain friends with Wilson."

Greg only nodded and dozed at the table.

"Are you like this every morning?" Wilson inquired.

Greg shook his head and winced.

"You didn't switch from root beer to beer after Wilson and I went to bed did you?"

"Weasel piss." Greg whispered through a scratchy throat.

"Go back to bed," ordered House and Wilson simultaneously.

House glared at Wilson then continued. "You have the opinions of the two finest doctors at PPTH. I'll let your boss know that you won't be there."

Greg looked up stunned. "You're gonna tell Cuddy who I am while I'm not there? Dad! Besides, it's my first day to work with you and the team! I gotta go!"

"Your head hurts, your throat hurts, and we can tell that you're running a fever without even touching you. I'm gonna look down your throat, and then write you a prescription for antibiotics because I'm almost certain that you have strep throat. It's a miracle that you haven't come down with something before now. Most people get sick all the time when they first start working in a hospital – especially the clinic. We can blame this on Wilson." House checked Greg's throat, made a face and called in a prescription, instead of writing it. He used the corner drug store rather than the hospital pharmacy so that he didn't need to explain that the Greg House the prescription was for wasn't the same Greg House as himself. Before House had finished the call, Wilson had left to go pick up the drugs. When House closed his phone, he noticed that Greg had fallen back to sleep using as a pillow the stack of three pancakes that Wilson had given him.

After leading Greg back to the couch, House called the team and told them that he was taking a personal day. Fortunately, there wasn't a patient on the verge of death. House called Cuddy and assured her that all was well and he wasn't coming in. To House's surprise she informed him that Wilson had contacted her regarding Greg and told her that he had strep and wouldn't be in so that he was off the hook. Wilson could be remarkably efficient when he put his mind to it.

Wilson returned from the drug store with Gatorade, a thermometer, popsicles, three different kinds of cough drops, the prescription and a tiny stuffed grey kitten. "I didn't want Greg to get lonely today" was Wilson's only defense.

"I'm stay home with him. Thanks for calling Cuddy, by the way. Thanks for the other stuff, too." Wilson noticed that House didn't offer to reimburse Wilson for anything that he'd purchased.

After Greg had been dosed and was sleeping again, Wilson reheated the pancakes and both men sat down to eat.

"Greg's going to expect breakfasts like this all the time if you're not careful," House said around a mouthful of food.

"I think I can live with that," Wilson replied, "I cook breakfast like this for us most of the time anyway."

"Yeah," House responded, realization dawning, "I guess you do. I guess I ought to say 'thanks'."

Wilson waited for a few seconds. "Well, are you…going to say 'thanks' that is."

"No."

GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH

House watched his son as he slept. Since Greg was camped out on the couch, House didn't feel like he should have the TV on. He'd tried to read a medical journal, but his eyes kept wandering toward Greg. He realized that he'd never really gotten to look at Greg up close. For one thing it would have been creepy to stare at him while he was awake, and for another, House didn't ever think to do it before. Now was a perfect time to take the opportunity.

Greg's hair was light brown and curly; just like House's had been when he was that age. The mouth was his, too, but Greg smiled far more than House. Renee smiled easily and so it made sense that he son would, too. The nose was all Renee's. It was a little broader than House's and turned up a bit at the end. Greg was a handsome boy. House thought to himself that he and Renee hadn't made junk.

Just then, Greg stirred and scratched at his belly as he spoke in his sleep. "Mommy, my belly itches! Make it stop."

House pulled Greg's blanket back and lifted his shirt. A rash covered Greg's torso and before long it would be covering the rest of his body.

Shaking Greg gently, House woke him from his slumbers. "Hey, you're breaking out in a rash. I need to get some antihistamine into you. Shake off the sleep while I see if Wilson keeps anything around here that you can take"

Greg mumbled a reply and sat up while he continued the scratching that he's started as he slept.

As he was rummaging in a medicine cabinet, House heard Greg's hoarse call. "Dad! Dad!"

House grabbed what he needed, and hurried to his son's side.

Greg looked scared. "Is this what killed my mom?"

House hadn't even considered the possibility and truthfully he didn't know the answer. "I doubt that it was this specific antibiotic that killed her and even if it is, although your itching is inconvenient and uncomfortable, it isn't acting like it will kill you." House held out two small, pink, oblong pills. "These will reverse the reaction you are having. You'll probably be sleepy and that's normal with antihistamines. Let me know if it feels like you're having trouble breathing because then we might need to worry."

House got Greg a Coke so he could take his meds. "Sorry I didn't think to ask you about any allergies you might have. Most of my patients are idiots and can't be trusted."

"Not even with the easy stuff?"

"By the time they get to me, hopefully the easy stuff has been discounted. Sometimes, though, it's the easy stuff that gets overlooked." House swatted at Greg's hand as he started scratching his arms. The rash had continued to spread and the boy was growing more uncomfortable.

"Hey! It itches! I've gotta scratch it!" Greg glared at his dad.

"You don't want a bloody mess or risk getting that infected. Lay off. The meds will kick in soon and it won't be so bad."

House moved to get his guitar and returned to Greg. He played random snatches of songs in an attempt to distract his son from his misery. Before long, Greg's eyelids grew heavy and he was once again asleep.

Pacing the loft, House's thigh ached. He knew it was because he was furious with himself that he hadn't considered asking Greg if he had any allergies….to anything! He needed to get his hands on Greg's medical records and he needed to find him a doctor and a dentist. It was dawning on House that parenting wasn't just living with a kid. There were needs that needed to be met which wouldn't cry out to be addressed. They would lay dormant until some sort of emergency arose. Given the way Renee died, Greg could have been seriously ill …or dead by now! House sighed and realized that he was thinking like Wilson. Nothing serious had happened and hadn't been likely to. Kids get sick and their parents deal with it. Rarely was anything ever very serious, but House had the disadvantage of always seeing the worst of the worst. Maybe he needed to pay more attention to what he treated in the clinic. These mundane cases were what made up the majority the illnesses that were out there. House needed to remember that and not jump to conclusions every time something like this happened. Greg was lucky that House hadn't hauled him in to PPTH and started running a battery of tests! House also needed to get Greg on his insurance policies. This wasn't something that could wait for long.

Cuddy needed to know about Greg, and then HR needed to be told. House had wanted to have fun with all of the big reveals that could be made regarding Greg, but maybe things needed to be moved along a little more quickly. Wilson knew about Greg now and he was lousy at keeping secrets. If House didn't hurry up about it, Wilson would certainly tell all. First, Greg needed to get well, and then House was going to have his fun. It might not be on the same time table that House had originally intended, but that didn't mean that all was lost!


	26. Chapter 26

_**After way too long, I have another chapter ready to go. I hope you enjoy it! **_

_**Thanks so much to those of you who take the time to comment and encourage. It really means a lot to me. My daughter is getting married in a week, so I'm looking forward to having more time to write.**_

_Disclaimer: I don't own House or any of the characters in this chapter, aside from Greg Jr. and Stacia._

Like Father, Like Son

Chapter 26

During Greg's illness, House had time to think about his own childhood and the job his parents had done raising him. His initial reaction was "just don't be them", but in hindsight he realized that despite the abuse he received at the hand of his father, there were probably some things both parents did right. House acknowledged that he wasn't an easy child. He was curious, creative and completely fearless from the start. If he really wanted to do something he was going to do it at any cost. How frustrating must that have been for his parents? Granted, his parents handled him in a way that was completely unacceptable, but aside from Dr. Benjamin Spock, there wasn't much out there to guide parents in the task of rearing their offspring. His father's military mindset was diametrically opposed to anything that doctor had to say; thus leaving Greg in the middle of a situation where his mother chose to parent gently while his father sought to instill a sense of right and wrong in the harshest way possible. It didn't help that his mother chose to turn a blind eye to his father's activities. The bitterness that had grown over the years tasted like the bile that burned his throat whenever he thought back to that time in his life he tried so hard to forget.

Now it was time to take a step back and try to evaluate the good things as well. Because his father traveled throughout his military career, House's exposure to various cultures and languages was priceless. He was constantly using the skills he had developed years ago as a result of those experiences. House had been permitted to roam and explore freely the exotic places where his father had been stationed. House hadn't just visited museums; he had climbed pyramids in Egypt and hung out with Buraku in Japan. He had learned the languages of every single place he had visited because of his ability to pick up the nuances of each language. House had studied and become lost in his interests because he'd needed these diversions to protect his mental health. Would he have given up these experiences if to do so would have protected him from the abuse he suffered at his father's hands? No, he didn't think he would. The knowledge he'd gained had saved the lives of others more than once. He also realized that a traditional American lifestyle and education would have bored him to the point of desperation. His childhood, as dreadful as it was, in the end had turned out to be exactly what House needed in order to be the man he'd become. His good qualities as well as the bad were a direct result of the childhood his parents had chosen for him. Would House have done it all over again? No. As an adult, he realized that no kid should be treated that way. Regardless of how difficult he'd been, he'd never deserved the abuse so freely meted out to him.

GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH

Just before it was time to get up, House's thoughts turned to Greg. His son been raised right despite the tragedy that had touched his young life. He wondered if he would be like Greg if he'd been loved and nurtured in the same way. It didn't matter really, since there was no way to go back. What did matter was for Greg to continue to be nurtured in the way that benefitted him most and House was determined to step up and be that for his son. Whereas doctoring was intuitive for House, he was pretty sure parenting wasn't. He realized though, that the key was being available and House was sure that he could do that starting now. A pillow whacked him just as the alarm went off.

"Hey, get up! I'm well and refuse to be kept hostage for another day!"

House looked at his scruffy kid and decided that the parenting needed to start right away. "Whoa! We need to take care of a few things first before we enter the land of the Great and Powerful Cuddy!"

"Like what? I already showered so what's the problem?"

"Your clothes are my clothes, for one thing! It's a miracle that Wilson hasn't taken you shopping! If you've been wearing my ties, you need to know that Wilson has been giving them to me as gag gifts every Christmas and birthday since we met. You really don't want to embarrass yourself for another day." House swallowed and took a deep breath. "You need a haircut, too."

"No way! You don't make Chase cut his hair!"

"Chase isn't my son; you are." House got out of bed and hobbled to his closet to figure out what to wear.

Greg huffed and rolled his eyes. "Wilson didn't complain about the way I look when I was working for him!"

"Wilson isn't your dad. It's not his job. Where is he, by the way?"

"He's fixing breakfast. He told me to wake you. What if he says that I don't need a haircut?"

"If you don't want two dads, I wouldn't go there with him if I were you," House replied as he glared at Greg.

"Fine." Greg turned to leave so his dad would have some privacy, but he felt compelled to ask one more question. "Dad, how short does my hair need to be?"

House didn't want to go there. It really was a trivial thing, but it was time to stand his ground. "Just make your grandparents proud."

The two men smirked at each other. Greg couldn't fight that one, even if he'd wanted to. His dad was good. There was no denying that!

Once he'd gotten his shower and trimmed his beard, House joined Greg and Wilson at the table for breakfast. He placed his cell on speaker and called the team. Since this was a morning routine, House knew that the team would be listening on speaker, as well.

"Good Morning, Angels! I'm not coming in right away because we haven't got a case! Your job is to find one in the clinic as you are doing my hours."

"Do your own clinic hours, House." replied Foreman, deciding to forgo the formalities and cut to the chase.

"I have a commitment I need to see to and I know that you all have the time." House looked at Greg indicating that he was the commitment. "If you see Eddie, remind him that he's with us starting today. Thirteen can play mother hen until I get there."

Thirteen's response was as House expected. "He's easier to get along with than you are, I'd be glad to."

House disconnected the phone and turned to Greg. "You are the commitment to which I was referring. Let's go." House finished the last bite of food from his plate grabbed his backpack and cane and headed to the door. "You're coming?"

"On my way," grumbled Greg, as he took his time finishing his meal and slowly put the last bite in his mouth.

For the first time, House felt anger stir. Apparently, the _best behavior_ phase of their relationship was over and the real job of parenting was about to begin. "Our arrival PPTH is contingent on getting your stuff done. Whereas I have to go, it is your privilege to go. Understood?"

Greg took his plate and House's to the sink and seemed to move just a shade faster. "On my way."

"Good to hear it."

"Dad, do I have to get a buzz like yours? It's hideous."

"Is that what your grandparents made you get?"

"No."

"Thank God, because I think it's hideous, too. I had to keep it like this at Mayfield and I think it's about time to grow it out, don't you?"

GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH GH

House and Greg stopped at the first hair salon they came to. As they entered, both men took in the scene. The room was lined with two rows of chairs facing mirrored walls. House and Greg were looking at exactly what they'd expected to see. Old women stylists stood behind even older women clients getting old lady hair-dos. There was one exception. A much younger stylist stood off to one side behind an empty chair. Her blond hair was spiked and her arms were covered in many and varied tattoos. She was flipping through a magazine that contained all the most up to date and sensationalized stories about the world's most "interesting" people. The men looked at each other and grinned.

"Her!" they said in unison.

"Are you just here for the floorshow or do one of you need a haircut?" The young woman's husky, and slightly incriminatory, voice indicated that maybe they'd been staring at her for a little too long.

Greg blushed as House stated, "It'd better be for the haircut because the floorshow sucks."

The woman gave a full throated, raucous laugh as she approached them and replied, "It must be for the young man here because if I cut any more hair off you, I'll need to get out the wax to polish your lumpy bald head. I'm Stacia and I can already tell you're a pain in the ass."

"Ah, you got it right, but you can just call me House. This is my son Greg. He's mute."

"I am not! I just didn't feel compelled to interrupt the flow of your witty repartee. Greg House." Greg held out his hand for Stacia to shake and she took it with a very impressed look at House.

"Wow! Smart and mannerly! This isn't your child. Did you steal him?"

"No, he showed up on my doorstep a few weeks ago."

"Well, his mother must be an angel."

"I'd like to think so," said Greg.

Stacia had no idea how true these statements were and since she had turned to lead Greg to a chair, she didn't see the look that passed between father and son.

Greg sat in the chair that Stacia had shown him to and she proceeded to run her hands through his hair. "I love your curls! I have an idea!" Stacia went to work without further conversation and Greg relaxed into the sensation of feeling mothered for the first time in what seemed like years.

Over the course of the haircut, House and Greg found out that Stacia was the single mom of four kids. She spoke proudly and with humor about each of them. House admitted to being a doctor and Greg said that he was about to start an internship with his dad.

"You'd better watch out, House, this kid is going to be out-diagnosing you in no time flat!" Suddenly, she stopped and looked hard at Greg. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen, I graduated early and I'm just trying to stay busy until I can enroll in college in the spring." House realized that Greg's age had changed since the topic had last come up. He'd manage to miss a birthday already, apparently.

"I hope you've got what it takes to keep up with this kid, Dad!" Stacia teased.

"You aren't the only one," was House's reply.

Stacia turned Greg around and handed him a small mirror so that he could see the back of his head in the larger mirror. "What do you think?"

"It's great!" enthused Greg. "I always thought that my hair had to be out of control, but it looks really good!"

Stacia smiled. "You just needed to get the right cut. Curly hair can be tricky." Greg's hair lay flat against his head in soft waves. A few wispy curls turned up at his neck. "I bet your dad looked just like you when he was fifteen. There's no hiding that you're father and son, that's for sure!"


End file.
